


These Are the Days That Never End

by revanchistsuperstar



Series: The Stardust Legacy [4]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Betrayal, Espionage, F/M, Heavy Angst, Original Character(s), Polyamory, Strained Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:10:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14250822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revanchistsuperstar/pseuds/revanchistsuperstar
Summary: Alliance Commander Ixaleii Stardust has managed to do the impossible, she has defeated Empress Vaylin and the Immortal Emperor Valkorion both, ending the conflict with Zakuul and taking control of the Eternal Throne. Now leading the Eternal Alliance, she is hopeful that the galaxy may finally see peace. However, Theron Shan is less convinced, and all his worst fears become manifest when he discovers that his wife is not only pregnant, but her life, and the lives of all of their associates are in grave danger.





	1. In the Wake of the Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE AS OF MAY 2018:
> 
> Hey y'all, now that we've all had our hearts laid to waste by the Nathema Conspiracy, I'm going through and making some slight edits to this fic! There wasn't actually that much I had to edit, because apparently I'm pretty good at predicting Bioware plots, but yeah, just wanting to let you know that I've changed a few things here and there to make this fic work a little better with the canon. Certain things I'm keeping though. For instance, Theron and Ixaleii are already married and have been for a little while in this series. So as much as "idiot spy boyfriend" made me scream at my computer, I'm just keeping them married and not worrying about that. I'll probably be writing even more for this universe soon too. Because fuck me right?
> 
> This is a sequel to my first Outlander/Theron Shan fic that I wrote (As The Stars May Yet Be Tamed) that I have been working on for literally TWO YEARS. In those two years, I started and abandoned a completely different sequel that I reworked into a shorter one-shot that's posted on here actually, one that featured Cipher Nine, but I couldn’t think of how to end it and it was getting muddy and convoluted and I didn’t like it anymore. I had started a different sequel that went in a different direction that had a lot of similar themes, but I was writing in circles and just couldn’t ever get anything strung together that I actually liked. I FINALLY ended up getting some inspiration once Crisis on Umbara launched, because as much as I’m pretty critical of the weakness of the plotline/level of character assasination of this whole “Theron Shan is a traaaaaitor oooooh” hooplah, it did immediately inspire me to write what ended up being the very last chapter of this fic. Exploring the whole traitor aspect and Theron’s possible motives from a different angle was very intriguing to me, and that’ what I ended up doing. 
> 
> A few other important notes: First things first, in my headcanon my Outlander (who was a Smuggler, btw) is in a poly relationship with both Theron and Corso. I basically have ignored the way that the game reunited the Smuggler with Corso and Risha in favor of my own writing. So basically Corso has been back for a lot longer in this story than he has in the game. You can read the first installation for more on that. Secondly, the first installation in this series was incredibly porn heavy. This sequel is not. Sorry. Which leads to the next thing I have to say. This fic deals heavily with a subject I have shied away from for a very long time in my fics, and that is pregnancy. I recently re-read Drew Karpyshyn’s Old Republic novel “Anihilation” while I was trying to get some more inspiration to push through my two year writer’s block, and I was struck by the poignancy of the idea of creating a plot for Theron which mirrors the narrative of his own parents. It’s not like it’s a theme that hasn’t been explored before in the Star Wars universe, so I didn’t think it’d be super out of place, but I just wanted to provide some context as to why I made that the crux of the drama and angst.
> 
> Sorry that I always write these year long paragraphs of notes. I just like giving y’all context for my art. T-T

Ever since the Eternal Empire had first invaded the Core Worlds, Theron Shan had known that he’d have to put away any expectations of his life being free from devastation and war for years and years to come. It was a fight that had always seemed endless, insurmountable, and yet he was always determined to fight it, if only for the sake of the woman he loved, the Alliance Commander and former smuggling captain Ixaleii Stardust.

But now, just like that... it was done. Valkorion was gone. And Ixaleii was seated on the Eternal Throne.

Theron wasn’t sure what he’d expected to feel in the wake of the Eternal Empire’s defeat, but he was a lot emptier than he’d ever anticipated. Any relief he’d felt knowing his wife was finally free of Valkorion’s constant presence was replaced by weariness and dread upon hearing the speech she’d made to the entire galaxy. He was seasoned and war-hardened—former SIS to boot—so Theron knew it was more than slightly naïve to imagine they’d have ever been allowed to retire quietly to some obscure corner of the galaxy and live the rest of their days out in blissful peace and obscurity. But he still couldn’t help the way his heart fell realizing that Ixaleii was going to continue leading the Alliance for years to come.

The celebrations and festivities had of course begun shortly after they’d arrived back on Odessen. Theron had never been much of a party person to begin with, so it was no surprise to him that he spent the majority of the celebration feeling tense and anxious, and doing anything but enjoying himself. Across the room, Theron happened to notice that his fellow advisor Lana Beniko was looking as if she felt much the same. He smiled at the sight of her scowl, and watching the impatient tosses of her pale blonde hair was even enough to make him chuckle. If there was anyone he could trust to have his back, even if it was just to be as annoyed and out of place at a party, it was Lana. They’d been working together for years now, to the point that Theron even considered her a friend. He couldn’t say that about most former Sith Lords, especially one who’d once let him be captured and tortured in pursuit of an objective.

Lana must have noticed him looking her way, because her yellow eyes caught his for a moment, and she made a quick gesture with her head before leaving the room. Theron looked around the party briefly, and judging by the general raucousness that it was unlikely he would be missed, followed Lana in the direction of the hangar.

Walking into the hangar, Theron felt the cool breeze of Odessen’s night air enveloping him, and it was the first calming sensation he’d experienced since returning to the planet. He almost had to pause for a moment. The view was breath-taking. Odessen’s wilds were truly spectacular to look at, a welcome change from the steel grey of ship’s hulls and military buildings. Scanning the hangar for Lana, he eventually spotted her up on the balcony.

“You’re missing the party,” Theron said as he approached, teasing. Both he and Lana knew that neither of them were particularly bothered.

“Oh?” Lana replied, teasing right back. “I thought you’d passed out on the dance floor.”

Theron almost laughed. Him. Dancing. The thought was painful.

“I got a second wind,” he said with a smirk. Lana smiled back, but it was fleeting, her mouth falling back into the terse frown that was her typical expression within seconds. Theron was fairly certain he knew why. He folded his arms, sighing. “Let me guess: You’ve seen the intelligence reports.”

“The Republic’s preparing for war,” Lana replied flatly, confirming. Theron leaned against the balcony’s railing with one hip, arms still folded.

“And the Sith Empire’s not far behind,” he said, grim.  He looked out to the horizon, eyes narrowing. “So much for our friendly pact with Acina.

The former spy turned to face Lana, but her expression wasn’t what he’d expected. She almost looked… mournful.

“The Eternal Alliance is only hours old, but already I sense dark forces massing against us.” Theron felt his expression go dark as she spoke, and he drew himself upright, arms falling back to his sides. “Uprisings sparking across the galaxy…”

“We will defeat them,” he responded, sounding more confident than he felt, walking up closer to his friend, trying to comfort her. Lana’s head fell a bit, her eyes closing briefly. She sighed, and then lifted her head up again.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “Tonight, we celebrate.”

Theron smiled wanly, nodding. She was right. They’d earned the right to celebrate their successes, he didn’t need to worry about problems that weren’t going anywhere and were quite frankly out of his hands anyways. It was easier said than done of course, but Theron had to remind himself: they’d defeated Valkorion, and that was no small feat. They both turned to leave the hangar, heading back in the direction of the festivities, when Theron saw Ixaleii approaching them. He stopped in his tracks, blushing a bit. He hadn’t expected her to realize he was gone.

“Commander,” Lana said, smiling. “We were just about to rejoin the party.”

“You go ahead, Lana,” Ixaleii said. “I need to talk to Theron about something.”

Lana smirked, and Theron blushed a bit deeper, knowing what that smirk implied. It wasn’t like he and Ixaleii were keeping their relationship especially secret, but it was still jarring nonetheless to be teased about it.

“I won’t wait up too long then,” Lana said, still smirking, and she turned, leaving Theron alone with his wife.

“So,” he began. “Did you actually need to—?”

“No,” was all Ixaleii said before pulling him in by his shirt collar and kissing him deeply. Theron felt the tension he’d been holding onto slide away from his shoulders immediately, and the relief was so palpable that even despite the unmistakable and pungent taste of Mandalorian kri’gee on his wife’s tongue, he immediately kissed back, even deeper. He grabbed hold of her waist, lifting her slightly, marveling for what had to be the thousandth time at her light weight. Theron would never stop being in awe of how someone so small and slight could be so incredibly strong, and she exhibited that strength in the way that she pulled herself up to make up for the rest of the discrepancy in their heights, hands anchored on Theron’s shoulders.

As they stood there in the dark hangar, exchanging dozens of kisses, it struck Theron that this was the first bit of serious intimacy they’d been able to share since defeating not only Valkorion, but Vaylin as well. He’d stolen a good luck kiss on the Gravestone, on their way to claim the Eternal Throne, but other than that he couldn’t remember the last time him and Ixaleii had had the luxury of so openly lavishing affection on one another.

“Ix,” he whispered as he pulled away, breathless and slightly flustered. Her vibrant green eyes met his for a single, tremulous moment, and then she laid her head on his chest. Theron wrapped his arms around her, smoothing down her short-cropped ash brown hair as he did. “Ix, you did it.”

“We did it, Theron,” Ixaleii said. “I never could have done this without you. Without any of our friends. I’m… I’m so glad he’s finally gone.”

Theron felt his throat tighten. It was so easy for him to forget that the former Sith Emperor had been a near constant presence weighing on Ixaleii for these past months. It wasn’t something he liked to think about much.

“Does Corso know yet?” Theron asked, referring to Ixaleii’s other husband. Finding out that Ix was and had been married since long before she’d even looked Theron’s way had at the time the shock of Theron’s life, but now their arrangement felt as natural as anything else.

“He’s still out in the Outer Rim,” Ixaleii said. “But yes, he saw on the Holonet. We spoke, too. He’s overjoyed.”

“Well, so am I,” Theron said, brushing his hand down the side of his wife’s face. She frowned slightly, which surprised him. “…Do you want to go back to the party?”

“I’d rather take you to my quarters, throw you down on the bed and tear all your clothes off to be honest.”

Theron swallowed, his ears going hot.

“How far are your quarters from here again?” he asked, feeling his pants getting tighter the more he thought about it. Ixaleii smiled deviously.

“Not far,” she replied, taking her husband’s hand. “I’ll help you remember.”

The room was just down the hall from the hangar, past the war room, but Theron had to admit to himself he often forgot Ix even had quarters on the base because of how often they slept in the bed on her XS freighter (as far as Ixaleii had told him, it was a far superior bed in terms of both comfort and familiarity). Theron had been in the room on Alliance business a fair number of times, but never really long enough for it to make an impression.

As they entered the room, Ixaleii pressed a series of button on the panel beside the door, closing and (Theron assumed) locking it. Theron took that time to look around the quarters with fresh eyes. He supposed the reason Ix had brought him here, apart from the close proximity to the hangar, was the fact that with the XS being with Corso in the Outer Rim, this was their only option besides Theron’s quarters, which had barely enough room for a single occupant cot and his desk. This room was easily five times that size, outfitted with a desk, a lounge area, a large holotransmitter for taking calls and viewing maps, and a quite frankly huge bed situated in the back corner, on a platform that overlooked the rest of the room. Theron removed his jacket, placing it on a chair in the lounge area as he made his way over to the bed. He sat down on the edge, and had just finished removing his gloves and boots when he felt Ixaleii touch his chin, lifting his face up to look at her. Their eyes locked on each other’s.

“Damn,” she breathed, looking him over as if this was her first time seeing his face. “I love you.”

Theron couldn’t help but grin. He reached out, brushing his thumb over a few of the freckles on Ixaleii’s nose, then tracing over her lips, which parted slightly as he did so. Within an instant, she had him straddled on the bed, kissing him deep and slow, and Theron couldn’t help but think how much this was a way better way of celebrating than any ridiculous party.

The slow and passionate love making continued for several hours after that, leaving them both feeling simultaneously satiated and exhausted after all was said and done. Theron had needed that, he realized. He’d needed his wife’s warmth to remind him just how wonderful life could be. Laying there beside Ixaleii, drenched in sweat and completely out of breath, Theron felt tears sting his eyes involuntarily.

“I love you so much,” he said, truly feeling it deep down in the core of his being. Ixaleii reached out for him, pulling herself in close, resting her head on his chest.

“I love you too, Theron,” she said, equally emotional. “Thank you, I needed—AH!”

Ixaleii recoiled suddenly, obviously in pain, and Theron sat up almost immediately, years of training as a spy causing his reflexes to react according.

“What, what happened? Ix, are you okay?”

She was grimacing, one hand clutching her lower abdomen, but she waved the other hand at Theron dismissively, indicating she was okay.

“It’s fine, Theron. Don’t worry,” she said eventually, voice slightly strained. “It’s just aftershocks. Valkorion… Bastard couldn’t just leave quietly.”

“Do you need me to get you a medpac, would the kolto help?” he asked, all business, still greatly concerned. She hadn’t told him she was still experiencing pain from her ordeal with the throne. The guilt was starting to set in now, that he’d put her through about two hours worth of vigorous physical activity despite knowing she’d faced down one of the most powerful Sith the galaxy had ever seen just hours before that. “Maybe we should have taken it easy…”

“Oh, shut up, I’m not dying or anything,” she said grumpily.

“Ix…”

“Theron, seriously. I told you not to worry. Someday I’d like you to actually listen to me when I say that.”

That stung a little bit, and Theron shrunk back, chastened. But he felt an uneasiness settling over him that he couldn’t quite shake, so he said nothing, simply reached for his undergarments among the heap of discarded clothing beside the bed and began to pull them on silently.

“……I worry because there’s danger, Ix,” he said eventually. “I’m not trying to upset you.”

There was some rustling and movement behind him, and then Theron felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Ix said. He turned, frowning. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I get it. There is danger. You’re right. But you have to admit, Theron, I’m getting pretty good at facing it, okay? I just don’t want you to constantly be worrying on my account. You know I can take care of myself.”

“What happens when you can’t take care of yourself though?” Theron asked. “When we run into a danger that’s beyond you?”

Ixaleii smiled.

“That’s when I have you,” she said. “I know you’d do anything to protect me, Theron.”

He looked away, uncomfortable and slightly ashamed. Theron didn’t want to tell the woman he loved and respected so much—someone who was the epitome of bravery and selfless compassion— that the reason he was upset was due to his own selfishness. But Ix was too perceptive, so it wasn’t as if he had any other choice.

“Theron, what’s wrong?” she asked, of course honing right in. “Something’s bothering you, I know it is. You don’t have to hide from me, I’m your wife. I love you.”

Theron sighed, falling back on the bed, covering his eyes with his hands.

“You’re going to think this is stupid,” he said. “Because it is.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he heard her say, and then he felt the warmth of her body as she laid beside him, chin resting on his shoulder.

“Ix, I…” he began, faltering a bit as he struggled to put what he was feeling into words. “I’m worried about you. We defeated Valkorion. That’s amazing. It’s monumental. But it’s turned you into something more than just a leader. You’re a symbol. The figurehead of the most powerful organization in the galaxy. Figureheads are targets. And they’re usually pretty busy.” He frowned, hands falling from his eyes. Ix looked up at him, placing her hands on either side of his face, and suddenly Theron felt very small and vulnerable. “I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted finally, his heartbeat beginning to race the moment he said it. Almost as if she knew, Ixaleii kissed him gently on the forehead, taking Theron’s hand and lacing their fingers together.

“I promise you, you’re not going to. I won’t let this consume me. You’re too important to me to let that happen.”

Theron kept his thought that it might happen regardless of whether she let it or not to himself, instead sighing as he looked over to their entangled fingers. He lifted their hands up towards his lips, kissing Ixaleii’s, and then resting them both on his chest, directly over his heart. Ixaleii still had her other hand on his cheek, and she brought her face in close to his, pressing their foreheads together gently.

“I love you, Theron Shan,” she said, and there was something about the quality of her voice as she said it which sent chills down Theron’s spine. “I will always love you. Thank you for everything.”

Those words were all it took to melt him completely. He shuddered, taking a moment to kiss her gently before closing his eyes.

“I love you too, Ixaleii.”

Their first mission as official emissaries of the Eternal Alliance came about a month or so after that. Lana had departed for reconnaissance on Iokath, but Ixaleii had received a missive from the newly reformed Jedi Council, asking for both her and Theron to appear before them on Tython. It made Theron uneasy. His childhood had made him wary of Jedi and their ways, and if he was being perfectly honest, he typically found them to be sanctimonious and tiresome. Still, if the Eternal Alliance was going to try to convince the Republic that war was not in their best interest, the Jedi were certainly their best chance to do so.

Tython was at least a pleasant enough planet to spend time on, and their first few days passed peacefully, almost enjoyably even. The Council, it seemed, were mostly interested in hearing about Ixaleii’s experience with Valkorion and the power she’d been put in such close proximity with as someone with no discernible force sensitivity. They’d also used the time to create plans of attack for the restoration of the galaxy following the wake of Zakuul, and how the Eternal Alliance could best be of aid. The reason for the request of Theron’s presence became illuminated when it was revealed that his mother, Jedi Grand Master Satele Shan, had returned from her exile, and had been eager to see him ever since. Theron found that slightly hard to believe from the woman who’d abandoned him as an infant in favor of the Jedi way, but he couldn’t deny that she was being unusually kind and attentive compared to their past interactions as mother and son. In fact, she was showing an interest in his life that she’d never had before, and it was unsettling. When Theron pressed her about it, Satele had simply said that her perspective had been changed by her self-imposed exile.

“The Jedi need to change, Theron,” she’d said. “You’ve known it for years, many have, but it took this conflict to truly open my eyes. The Council doesn’t agree with me, of course. They fear what I have to say because of the time I spent with Darth Marr.”

“Master Zho always said fear was the path to the dark side,” Theron said before he’d even realized he was saying it. His mother had smiled at that. Whether it was because he’d mentioned wisdom he’d learned from her late master or because he knew Jedi wisdom at all was unclear. She’d reached out then, touching Theron on the face, gently. He almost didn’t know how he was supposed to react. The idea of receiving affection from his mother was essentially alien to him

“You’ve grown into a fine man, Theron,” Satele had said kindly.

“Thanks, Mother,” Theron had replied, shaken.  She’d smiled at that too, but did not say anything else. The entire interaction had left Theron feeling unbalanced and on the whole slightly uneasy.

It was on their final night spent with the Jedi, though, that Theron’s entire galaxy came crashing down around his ears.

Theron had been with Ixaleii in the quarters that were provided to them, shaving his face as his wife watched and admired him openly, as she rarely got to do.

“Take a holo, it will last longer,” he teased, and she laughed.

“You don’t like having an audience?”

“No, it makes me jumpy. What if I cu—OW!”

A sharp buzzing in his right ear had startled him, causing Theron to nick his jaw. The buzz was his personal communicator implanted in there, that less than five people still living had the frequency for. One of those people was sitting in same room as him. All the other options were people that he knew would only contact him in the case of an extreme emergency.

“Accept incoming,” he said, answering the call even as his stomach dropped with dread. Ixaleii was at his elbow, her expression grim and concerned.

“Who is it?” she asked in a low tone.

But that was the thing. The line on the other side was nothing but distorted static. Theron’s brow knitted as he tried to make sense of it, trying to utilize his other implants to find a way to cut through the interference. Nothing was working, and as suddenly as it had happened, the call was dead.

“Theron, you’re bleeding.”

Theron snapped back to the present moment, where Ixaleii was dabbing med gel onto his jawline from a pouch on her belt, trying to hide how unsettled she looked. Theron knew she was waiting for him to give her some insight into what had just happened, but he could barely process what even had occurred.

“Sorry, I just…”

Before Theron got a chance to explain, there was a sharp knock at their door. Ixaleii went to answer it, and was back within seconds.

“It’s your mother,” she said, looking confused. Sure enough, Satele Shan followed Ixaleii into the room, looking unusually harried.

“There’s been a disturbance in the Force,” she said, looking truly unsettled. “I’ve felt it. We’ve all felt it. Something is wrong. Both of you need to return to Odessen at once.”

“Do you have any idea what caused the disturbance?” Ixaleii asked gravely, but Satele merely shook her head. “I hope Lana didn’t wake up anything nasty on Iokath.”

Theron didn’t trust himself to say anything, but he had his own suspicions. All he could hear were Lana’s words to him, back on Odessen: “Dark forces are massing against us.” Those forces could be anything. He didn’t like that thought one bit.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he said, his chest constricting with anxiety as he did.

“Ixaleii, I hate to ask this of you,” Satele said, her voice regaining a bit of its usual composure. “But do you mind preparing your ship for its return journey while I speak to my son alone? There are things I need to tell him that are only for him to hear.”

“Of course,” Ixaleii replied, looking concerned. “I’ll go at once. Meet me there when you’re done, Theron.”

He nodded, frowning hard as his arms folded automatically. Being alone with his mother always managed to leave him upset. This time wasn’t going to be any different.

Satele turned to him after Ixaleii had left, her face grim and her eyes steely. Theron had once felt looking at her that there was no true resemblance between them, but now that he was older and less angry, her eyes is where he saw that resemblance the most, in their shape and the way they conveyed emotion. As she spoke, he continued to watch her eyes, because truly they were the only thing he could focus on to keep himself from screaming.

“I lied to her,” was what Satele opened with, which was hardly promising. “The Force has given me a vision, but this isn’t just a feeling. This is a very real, and very dangerous threat. I’ve received intel…. Theron your wife is in grave danger, and if she learns the nature of that danger it will be her undoing.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, nervous about what the danger could possibly be to make a Jedi Master act like this.

“There’s an organization that wants your wife dead, and her Alliance utterly destroyed from the top down. Theron, my child… A terrible path has been laid before you, and for that I am so sorry.”

Theron laughed nervously, unable to help himself, causing Satele to stare at him. He cleared his throat, and apologized, waiting for her to continue, not sharing the thought that had immediately crossed his mind.

_When have I not had some stupid terrible path laid before me? What makes this time so different?_

As it turned out, this was different, and the Jedi Grand Master’s elaborations continued to fill Theron with indescribable horror at each word.

“You’re her only hope, Theron,” Satele elaborated earnestly. “I’ve seen that much. You’ll have to join them, make them believe you want her as dead as they do. They’re going to ask you to prove your loyalty. Ixaleii Stardust is far more important than she realizes. Her death would plunge the galaxy into chaos, war is already coming and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. But you have to do this. You will be hated and reviled by many that you call friends, but you will be saving all of their lives.”

“What makes you so certain?” Theron asked, his tone sounding more accusatory than he intended, but already the panic was setting in. Ix was in danger. “Why can’t Ix know? And Lana? I would trust Lana Beniko with my life; we’ve worked ops like this before.”

Satele pinched the bridge of her nose as if she were developing a headache, shaking her head slightly.

“You Sith friend is trustworthy, but her ways are fueled too greatly by passion, and her emotions are too easily read. I fear that should she try to help you, the operation would be doomed from the start. As for Ixaleii… If she knows, it will compromise you. You have to be as detached as possible if any of you are going to survive. And it’s more than just that.” Theron gave his mother a withering look. Of course it was. Of course. “You’re being watched, Theron. There’s a droid… She’s far more powerful than she should be. The lengths I had to go to make sure this conversation remained private……” Theron subconsciously raised a hand to his ear, now wondering if his mother had something to do with the static filled call from minutes before. The thought of her being able to use the Force like that was  more than a little disconcerting, so he decided not to dwell on it. “This is unlike any vision I’ve ever received, Theron. The future is always in motion, visions are never infallible, but never in all my years has the Force imparted to me so strongly the consequences of a certain path.”

Theron was reeling. How could any of this be true?

“Send me the intel,” he said hoarsely. “The group… What do they call themselves?”

“They’re called the Order of Zildrog,” Satele said gravely, and even the name made Theron’s hair stand on end. Zildrog. The great evil serpent the freakish cult on Zakuul worshipped. Great. “Their leader is called Vinn Atrius, his belief in his cause is unshakable, and he is all the more dangerous for it.”

“How did you find this all out?” Theron couldn’t help but ask, Satele leveled him with the sort of deadpan stare he was pretty sure he’d given to more than one person in his lifetime.

“You thought you were the only one in this family who stays abreast of what going on in the galaxy?” she said.  “Several of your own contacts will be able to corroborate these facts if you ask them. You should get in touch with them as soon as you can.”

Theron found he was swaying and had to sit. It was a lot to process. Ix was in danger. They all were in danger. But he knew immediately that he had no choice: he had to do it. Thinking of all the lies he was going to have to tell his wife, the fact that eventually she was going to believe he was a traitor, it was killing him inside to even contemplate, but he knew with every fiber of his being that he’d do anything to protect Ixaleii, and anything included this. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. Satele was smiling at him sadly.

“There’s more,” she said. “And this I do expect you to tell your wife, but you aren’t going to like hearing it. Theron, I felt it as soon as you both arrived, but I didn’t want to say anything until after you both discovered for yourselves. But now, you have to know. Ixaleii is pregnant, Theron. With twins.”

Theron felt all the blood drain from his face. No. It couldn’t be true. Her birth control implant…

But then Theron remembered the sharp abdominal pain Ixaleii had complained of after her battle with Valkorion, and felt his entire body go numb.

“I’m going to be sick,” he said, disoriented, and that was all he managed in the way of warning before he actually was.

Upon returning to the ship, Theron was still in shock, and still feeling ill despite having purged the entire contents of his stomach. He approached the vessel in a daze, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Ixaleii came down the gangplank towards him.

“Are you ready to go?”

Theron just stared at her, unsure even what to say. How could he say anything? He’d been shook to his core, this was every one of his worst fears become manifest. Ixaleii was in danger. Ixaleii was pregnant and in danger. And he was going to have to go behind her back to fix it. Alone. The irony of that wasn’t lost on him. All through his career in the SIS, he’d spent every chance he had to insist that he worked best alone. That he didn’t need anyone, that he preferred being unaccompanied and detached. And now that he finally had people in his life that he loved and whose companionship he valued, he was going to have to abandon every single one of them.

Ixaleii was staring, and it made Theron suddenly very conscious of how long he’d gone without responding.

_How am I going to tell her?_

“Sure,” he said eventually. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Ixaleii regarded him with undisguised alarm.

“Theron, what…?” she said. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he said simply, and then boarded the craft without another word.

He could hear Ixaleii practically running up behind him.

“No? Theron, that—What the hell did she tell you?!”

It was all Theron could do to not break right then and tell her everything, about the Order, about all of it. Only fear for her life and years of training prevented him from doing so. If his mother was right, they were being watched, probably right this very second. But there was the other part of it. She needed to know. And he absolutely didn’t know what to say.

“Ix, sit down,” he said quietly. He could tell she was just as confused and concerned as ever, but she listened to him and sat on the closest surface the ship had available. “She… I don’t know how to tell you this, Ixaleii, but you’re… you’re…”

“I’m pregnant,” she finished for him quietly.

“How did you…?”

“It’s the only thing that could make you this upset.” That broke Theron to hear. Under other circumstances, he’d probably have found it in his heart to be over the moons of Iego about his. It wasn’t like he’d never allowed himself to dream of having a family. When they’d been at war, it’d been different of course. He hadn’t wanted children because he didn’t want them to live his life—being the product of an accidental wartime pregnancy had been traumatic enough to live himself, he couldn’t imagine watching his own children going through it too. But “the only thing that could make him this upset?” Did she really think he hated the concept of a family this much? And he’d have to play along too. He looked at her mournfully, wishing she could understand, knowing she might never get the chance to.

“Twins,” he said. “That’s what my mother said. I have no idea how she can even tell this early in a pregnancy, but we all know how much my understanding of the force counts for.”

“T-they’re definitely yours?” Ixaleii asked. Theron nodded. It was simple math. His mother had elaborated slightly after telling him initially, explaining the estimated time for conception based on the life force of the embryos and a bunch of other things that he’d been in no state to really comprehend, and Corso had been gone in the Outer Rim for months.

“Your birth control implant most likely failed due to the power surge from the Eternal Throne,” Theron said tonelessly.

“……What are we going to do?” she asked earnestly, sounding completely lost. And that’s what killed Theron. Ixaleii was so unaware of the danger she was in. The chance of her being unable to carry the children to term, and not of her own volition, was very high. He looked away, his stomach lurching slightly from the shame, threatening to make him sick again.

“Honestly, I don’t think you should keep them,” he said, feeling dead inside as he spoke. Ixaleii’s reaction was immediate. Her hands flew to her stomach, seemingly involuntarily, her expression one of undisguised horror.

“Theron, no,” she said. “Don’t say that, please.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, a profound wave of fatigue washing over him. “It’s your choice, Ix, I would never want to make a choice like this for you.”

_And I hope something else doesn’t make it for you either._

Ixaleii sat there, struck silent as she processed it all. Theron watched her, wishing his life was anyone else’s right now, so that instead of being gripped by fear at the prospect of being a father he could be filled with indescribable delight or whatever it was that you were supposed to feel. More than anything he wanted to be able to hold his wife and tell her just how overjoyed and excited he was and how much he loved her. Instead he was sitting in stony silence on a cold military shuttle, watching her from several feet away as she broke to pieces, and feeling completely inadequate to comfort her in any way.

“…Don’t tell Corso,” she eventually said, very quiet. “Not yet, at least. I need to think of what to say.”

“Of course.”

“Theron… if you want nothing to do with these children, I understand. Corso has wanted kids his entire life, we can manage somehow.”

Theron didn’t say anything to that, just wiped at his eyes as they started to mist up. That wasn’t what he wanted at all, but he was glad that when he’d eventually have to leave, as his mother had foreseen, that his children would be well cared for by a man who probably was going to be a far better father to them than he ever could.

“……Was there something else that your mother said?” Ixaleii asked, and Theron felt his heart pang with electric fear. “You seem—”

“Don’t ever ask me that ever again. I can’t tell you why. But if you love me, please… Please don’t.”

Ixaleii seemed taken aback, but didn’t press him further, which Theron was grateful for.

“I love you, Theron,” she said. “Truly.”

“And I love you, too,” he replied, wishing it didn’t sound so paltry after everything that had just transpired.

“….I’ll set our course for Odessen, then,” she said rising. Theron watched her as she stood and then made her way to the cockpit, but made no motion to follow her. He was sure she needed time to herself just as much as he did.


	2. A Private War

What truly terrified Theron over the next few weeks is how normal things became, and how good he was able to get at living his double life. The subject of Ixaleii’s pregnancy was never brought up between them, almost as if both of them had a tacit agreement that the topic would be too upsetting for either of them, but Theron knew she was starting to see doctors and experience side effects as the pregnancy progressed.

Per his mother’s suggestion, Theron made sure to reach out to as many of his contacts in the underworld as he could. Each one of them told the same story: The Order was very, very real, and their hatred for Ixaleii ran deeper than Theron even could have thought possible. It made him sick to even contemplate. Everything they blamed her for, all of it… It was Valkorion. Why couldn’t they see that? When Theron made his first attempt to reach out to Vinn Atrius, the response was less than encouraging. If the fate of the galaxy hadn’t depended on it, Theron probably would have abandoned the plan all together and consulted with his wife how best to take out the organization head on instead. The man was incredibly suspicious, and filled with more spite than Theron had ever encountered, even with a life time of fighting Sith. The most chilling part, however, was how justified he felt in his hatred—Like it was ordained by some power on high. It was plain as day that the Order wasn’t going to let him anywhere near them until he proved he could be trusted, and they only trusted people they knew for a fact wanted Ixaleii dead. If he wanted in, Theron was going to have to try to kill her, and he was going to have to make it seem real.

After gathering mind-numbing amounts of intel, and spending night after night analyzing it until he passed out from exhaustion, Theron eventually came up with a plan that was as involved as it was complicated. The Republic and the Empire were to be lured to Iokath, to some sort of super-weapon that was located there. Lana, of course, was already there on her scouting mission, representing the Alliance, but she would need to be guided to try to claim the weapon as well at the same time as the other two factions. Considering his SIS training, Theron had no problem drawing up a dossier with sufficiently enticing intelligence to be sent anonymously to key players in each organization. The ensuing conflict and war once the intel was acted upon would be more than enough to ensure that Ixaleii’s presence would be required on the planet. That, of course, is where the difficulty came in. Finding a way to make it seem like his attempt on Ixaleii’s life was legitimate, and yet ensuring that it would fail wasn’t an easy task to undertake. Nevertheless, Theron had faith in himself. His mother was right. He was the only one that could do this.

But when the situation on Iokath came to a head, it was far more difficult than anything Theron could have conceived. The Superweapon ended up being even more of a genocidal death machine than he ever could have imagined, and that created more than a few problems. On top of that, there was the greatest hydrospanner that could have possibly been thrown into the works: his own father. Theron knew he should have expected it. Jace Malcolm was the Supreme Commander of the Republic Military—of course he would be leading such a major military offensive. But having his father call him a traitor, tell him to his face that he considered Theron dead and to no longer be his son, and to then put the lives of every single person on the planet at risk with his bullheaded pride was beyond the pale. Theron had seen glimpses of this dark side of his father before, when they’d taken on Darth Kharrid and the Ascendant Spear. Satele had even confided in him that the darkness within Jace Malcom was the reason she’d left him. As he went to confront his father, Ixaleii by his side, the last thing on Theron’s mind was the Order and trying to impress them.

“Where’s Malcom?” he said harshly, charging into the auxiliary weapon control room, blaster already drawn. Captain Elara Dorne, the Imperial ex-pat and decorated former member of Havoc Squad that Malcolm had roped into serving as his advisor, was the apparently the only one there, and she didn’t seem happy to see either Theron or Ixaleii. That was, until Jace Malcom himself stepped out of the shadows, leveling a blaster at the Alliance Commander’s head.

“Right here,” Jace said, his scarred face contorted in cold fury. “Last chance:  Surrender or I activate the super weapon.”

“No deal,” Theron said frigidly, looking down the sights of his blaster, aiming directly at his own father’s chest.

_Why did you have to come here?_

Malcolm’s eyes immediately widened, and his mouth opened slightly in disbelief. It was almost as if the reality of the situation—the fact that his son was no longer a member of the Republic, had not been for years, and was willing to kill and even die for the Alliance—was finally hitting home.

“Theron, you wouldn’t,” Malcom said, almost pleading. Resentment and rage flared in Theron’s gut. What right did this man have to claim any sort of familial privilege from him? Suddenly, Theron felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see his wife at his elbow, her eyes wide with alarm.

“Don’t kill him over me, I couldn’t live with myself,” she begged in earnest. Affection swelled in his chest for her. Just like his wife to be more worried about his feelings than he was. But the bottom line—regardless of whether his father was involved or not—was as plain as day to Theron, and had been from the moment Jace Malcolm had threatened the life of the woman he loved. He gave his wife a sad smile, hoping she understood.

“And I couldn’t live if I lost you,” he said quietly. Ixaleii’s lip quivered, and she nodded slightly, their eyes locked on each others. Theron swallowed.  It was the most honest thing he’d said in a very long time. 

“You’re chosen this tyrant over me?” Malcolm exclaimed, causing them both to snap their heads in his direction. “Over the Republic?”

“Yes,” Theron said, deadly serious. “I have.” And he pulled the trigger.

Theron shot several rounds at his father, who like the true decorated military hero he was managed to dodge them all. Advancing, his sight whiting out with rage, Theron continued to fire. Despite this, Malcolm was able to scramble his way onto the control throne and activate the Superweapon.

“Don’t do it Malcom!” Ixaleii shouted, but it was too late. A strange light was encircling the Supreme Commander’s head as the ancient alien technology began to interface with his senses.

“I see a radiant city, bathed in light,” Malcom said, awed. “Forged by the molten gods.”

“Malcolm!”

“The Superweapon is glorious, and it belongs to the Republic.”

“That weapon killed an entire species for trying to harness its power,” Ixaleii said, horrorstruck. “If you think you’re in control, think again.”

“You’re blind to the truth,” said Malcom. But then something changed. The light be emanating the throne took on a more sinister glow, and Malcom’s expression of awe mutated into one of fear. “No. The gates are closing.”

“Sir, your connection to the throne is breaking down!” Dorne shouted, her voice shrill with panic. “Superweapon controls are failing.”

“No I can still see it.” Malcom’s voice was labored now.  “I know what I must do. They’re coming…”

There was an explosion of flames and sparks, and Jace Malcom was ejected from the thone, violently. Elara Dorne fled in fear, but neither Theron nor Ixaleii made any effort to follow her. Theron could barely believe his eyes. Before he even realized his legs were carrying him, and he was running to his father’s side.

“Father!” he screamed.

_No. Please, don’t be dead._

“It’s too late, Theron,” Ixaleii cried, and turning, Theron could see that they were being encircled by Iokath’s huge and incredibly violent droids. He felt a weariness washing over him. Almost as if she could read his mind, she drew her blasters, shouting as she did. “We can’t give up now.”

The ensuing mêlée was hard-fought, an all out and desperate battle for their survival, and Theron relished every moment. He raged against the droids with every fiber of his being, all of his resentment and fury channeled into every squeeze of the trigger. With every droid he took down, Theron could understand just why the Sith relied so heavily on their emotions to channel their force powers. He was just so angry—angry that he’d been forced into his situation, that he’d been the one who’d lured Jace Malcom and the Republic here in the first place and that he’d been made to spark a war, that he was having to work behind the backs of people he loved and cared about and respected and that the burden of all of it was being placed on him, him and no one else. Theron howled at the droids defiantly, and felt more alive than he had in weeks.

And then suddenly, it was done. The silence was deafening, as suddenly the only sounds in the room were the sizzles of gently smoking metal, and the panting sound of his and his wife’s labored breathing. Remembering himself, Theron dropped his blasters with a deafening clang, and ran immediately to Jace Malcolm.

The Supreme Commander’s massive body was scorched and broken, and he was just barely clinging to life. As Theron cradled the man in his arms, despair was rising in his chest, threatening to overflow. His eyes stung with hot tears. His father had done nothing but upset him, try to exploit him, and let him down in the short time they’d know each other as father and son, and now the bastard was dying. It _wasn’t fair._

“You were right, son. I’m so sorry,” Jace Malcom said, his once deep and booming voice now weak and broken. “Tell your mother. I’m sorry.”

And just like that, Jace Malcom was gone. Theron hung his head, dissolving into silent tears of desolation. He stared at his father’s corpse, allowing the anguish to consume him entirely. It was several minutes before he was able to voice anything, and when he spoke, it was to his father’s body.

“You always put the Republic first,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “I hated you for that. But now you’re gone and I couldn’t save you.”

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Knowing it had to be his wife, he place his hand over hers, squeezing it gently. She spoke in a wavering, small voice.

“I know it hurts, but we’ll get through this. I promise.”

Theron closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing for a moment to regain his composure. He stood and turned to face Ixaleii, so grateful for her presence.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice still wrecked. “I mean it.”

Ixaleii closed the distance between them and kissed him gently. The feeling of her lips was a welcome relief, and as she pulled away he felt himself exhale, the smallest amount of tension leaving his neck and shoulders. He pulled out his datapad, taking a moment to look it over as he regained his composure. The situation they were in wasn’t going to disappear just because he was having an emotional crisis. After analyzing the data for a moment, he finally spoke, his voice still slightly raw.

“Malcolm’s power flux knocked out the superweapon’s defenses—and killed the signal that put our ships in lockdown. The Eternal Fleet’s back online.”

“It’s about time,” Ixaleii said, obviously relieved.

Then suddenly, the familiar sound of the commander’s holocommunicator alert tone rang out between them. It had to be Lana. Ixaleii held the device in her palm so that they could both hear, and answered the call almost immediately.

“Commander, I’m detecting massive power spikes at the Superweapon facility,” Lana said, her tone serious and harried.

“Let me guess, that’s bad,” said Theron flatly.

“More like catastrophic. The weapon core is charging, and no one’s at the controls. If you don’t deactivate it soon, it may obliterate the entire planet.”

Theron’s heart sank. This was it. This was the moment that meant no turning back. It was his job now to ensure that Ixaleii sat on the Superweapon’s control throne, and then he was going to sabotage it, nearly killing her and thus proving his resolve. He clenched his teeth. He wasn’t expecting to have to do this after experiencing such a personal trauma. The idea of putting Ixaleii anywhere near one of Iokath’s control thrones after watching what one had just done to his father was appalling. 

“How soon until the weapon fries Iokath?” Ixaleii asked Lana, already resolved to save everyone.

“We’re talking minutes,” Lana said, her voice betraying the smallest amount of panic. “You’ll never make it time.”

Theron swallowed. It was time for him to set this plot in motion.

“Hold on,” he said, turning to his datapad. “With the shields down, I can remotely slice into the mainframe from here. Maybe buy you enough time to manually kill the weapon at the source.”

He could see the gears turning in Ixaleii’s head, but he already knew what she was going to decide. His wife was righteous to a fault.

“Do whatever it takes,” she said to him, her voice determined. “In the meantime, tell our forces to take shelter. And Theron… I love you.”

That took Theron off guard. He felt the guilt twist in his stomach. He wished he could tell his wife how much she was only making this harder.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice betraying none of his inner turmoil. “Now go on, save us all from a fiery death. We’re counting on you.”

He watched her leave, her voice calm and assertive as she gave her Alliance troops commands into her comm, and the pride he normally would have felt watching her was tinged with nauseating guilt.

No sooner was Ixaleii gone than Theron’s fingers were flying across his datapad. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and his heart was pounding out of his chest, making him feel slightly woozy. Putting all of this in motion required a high degree of concentration, because even for someone like him, Iokath’s technology wasn’t the easiest to manipulate. The whole while, his father’s body being a few spare meters away, large and impossible to ignore, was threatening to break Theron utterly. He turned his back to the dead man, biting his lip as to stop himself from crying again. It was the last thing he wanted to deal with at this moment. Knowing what he was about to do was already hard enough.

After assuring that the Superweapon wouldn’t be able to kill them all instantaneously before Ixaleii reached the control throne, Theron tabbed over on his datapad to the autopilot controls of a speeder he had concealed previously, summoning it to his location. As he waited for it to arrive, Theron took a moment to sit and focus himself, meditating the way he’d been taught as a child. Though he’d found the practice irritating when he was younger, there was a certain comfort about it now that the rest of his life was so consumed with chaos. The ability to empty himself of everything—to find the eye of calm within his storm of emotions as Master Zho would have said—was incredibly freeing, all things considered. And it made contemplating what he was about to do much easier.

 _‘I wonder what you’d think of me now, Master Zho,’_ Theron mused, reminiscing on the lectures he’d earned from his foster father for lacking focus. ‘ _What would you make of the mess I’ve found myself in?’_

The speeder arrived shortly, and Theron procured from within it a set of dark hooded robes which he changed into in order to conceal his identity from any surveillance footage. He then climbed into the speeder and powered it up, following Ixaleii to the location of the Superweapon’s controls. It was on his way there that his communicator buzzed in his ear. His wife. He didn’t have much time.

Theron tried his hardest to be as casual and business-like as possible as he spoke to Ixaleii while she approached the controls, talking her through what to do next and promising her that she wasn’t going to suffer Malcolm’s fate if she sat on the throne. Theron couldn’t help but think as he made his assurances that he was making them in part for himself—There was always the chance that this could go catastrophically wrong.

When Theron arrived in the control room, Ixaleii was already seated on the throne, dead to the world around her as she interfaced with the weapon directly. He made his way over to a nearby console, part of the weapon’s auxiliary controls, and produced from within his robes an explosive of sorts that he would attach to the console in order to sabotage it. He swallowed. This was where things were going to get hairy. There was no turning back once this was done.

The sabotage device was incredibly complicated. It had taken Theron several sleepless nights to engineer the stupid thing and figure out how to ensure that when it sabotaged the throne, Ixaleii would be able to survive. Theron knew his wife, the sort of things she’d been able to endure. She was strong. He had no doubt she would be able to live through this, though he did regret that it would probably be incredibly painful. Her unborn children, however?

Theron swallowed, trying to rid his throat of the hard lump that had taken up residence there without his permission. He then set the device to blow, and walked away. He couldn’t hesitate. Doing so would put all of their lives in danger. A deafening bang and the sizzle of cracking electricity as he left the room let him know that the job was done. He tried not to listen as Ixaleii screamed out in pain, shouting for the Eternal Fleet to fire on the Superweapon.

_Please forgive me._

Everything that happened after that point was a blur to Theron. Somehow he managed to change back into his normal clothing and send his speeder away before Lana arrived, making it seem as he ran up to her, out of breath, that they had arrived at the control room simultaneously. They then found Ixaleii and removed her from the throne. She was unconscious, but otherwise unharmed, to Theron’s immense relief. He let Lana be the one to call for assistance in getting Ixaleii to the med bay, not trusting himself or his mental faculties in the wake of everything that had just happened. As they waited for help to arrive, Theron didn’t speak a single word, just sat silently beside his wife, clutching her hand as he stared into space. Lana didn’t try to engage him. Whether it was because she thought he was worried about Ixaleii or still mourning his father, or even both, Theron wasn’t sure, but he was grateful all the same. Lana was his friend, but her idea of comfort was a bit lacking. After the day he’d had, he was fine with a bit of silence.

It wasn’t long though before Alliance troops arrived and Ixaleii was transported and settled into the med bay. As he prepared himself for a good long vigil by his wife’s side, waiting however many hours it was going to take for her to regain consciousness, Theron found himself surprised that Lana seemed to be intent on keeping watch as well. When he thought on if for a bit longer, he supposed it made sense. Lana was completely devoted to Ixaleii, and it was obvious now that the Alliance Commander was in incredible danger. Theron wished then more than ever that it wasn’t so imperative for Lana to remain in the dark. She was his friend, and knowing that she probably was currently consumed with murderous intent towards a shadowy threat she didn’t even realize was him wasn’t making things any easier.

 _‘She didn’t have any trouble keeping you in the dark on Rishi, though,’_ said, his resentful side getting the better of him for a few spare moments. He scowled to himself, angry for even thinking about it. They were past that. Lana trusted him. And she wasn’t the sort to respond well to that level of trust being broken.

It was several hours before Ixaleii came to. Theron had settled into his usual stress ritual of pacing back and forth, trying to tune out his wife muttering in her sleep and occasionally even crying out, so he didn’t even realize what was happening at first. Lana, of course, sensed it before it even occurred, approaching the Commander’s bedside even as she barely began to stir.

“Lana,” Ixaleii said as she awoke, groggy and bewildered.

“Don’t worry commander, you’re safe,” Lana assured. Ixaleii sat up, and Theron watched her try to get a handle on her surroundings.

“I found the Superweapon,” she continued, still sounding slightly out of it. “It was a giant droid.”

“I know,” Lana said as Ixaleii drew herself out of bed. “You’ve been talking in your sleep.”

Theron approached, speaking his first sentence in hours.

“Your dreams are almost as bad as mine,” he said. He wasn’t even sure why he’d said it, but it was true. Ixaleii’s eyes met his, and for a brief moment, they had an entire wordless exchange. They both knew exactly what the other was thinking, and it had nothing to do with the war that was waging around them. “Whatever that droid is, you knocked it out of commission with the Eternal fleet. Now it’s recharging, and it’s gearing up for a counterattack.”

“Which is why we must strike soon,” Lana elaborated. “Hesitate too long, and the titan may destroy us all.”

Ixaleii nodded, but she seemed troubled.

“Someone betrayed me,” she said finally, and Theron’s stomach plummeted to his feet. “They lured me into that deathtrap and sabotaged the throne. Just like they tricked us all into fighting a war on Iokath.”

“The conspiracy cuts deeper than we imagined,” Lana said icily.

Theron leaned against a nearby kolto chamber, crossing his arms and trying his best to appear nonchalant. It wasn’t just a performance for the benefit of Ixaleii and Lana. Gemini 16, the droid his mother had told him about, was undoubtedly watching and listening in as well. The Order was going to know what he’d done, and they were going to know he was good at covering his tracks.

“Sounds like an inside job all right,” he said, affecting his typical bitter and blasé tone. “Only a handful of people could get close enough to sabotage the throne.”

“Who could have done such a thing?” Lana mused, setting Theron’s mind racing. If Lana suspected him, he might be forced to tell her the whole of the situation, which would put not only his operation but the whole of the galaxy at risk. He reeled, trying to think how best to deflect suspicion, but he was lucky enough that he wife unwittingly ended up doing that job for him

“Acina is an expert strategist,” Ixaleii said, pensive. “If she took me down, the galaxy would be as good as hers.”

Yes. The Sith Empress was a perfect candidate to deflect blame onto. Even Lana wouldn’t be able to deny how inherently untrustworthy she was. Among their allies, she was probably the one that all of them trusted the least.

“I always thought she had a case of throne envy,” Theron chimed in.

“Why stop with Acina?” Lana said. “If we’re tallying suspects, we have to consider Aygo, Vizla, Satele, and the entire Alliance army.”

“Not to mention Lana,” Theron added, hoping his wife would realize how ridiculous the suggestion was. “And hell, even me.”

“Whoever it is, I want them rooted out,” Ixaleii said tersely. “Quickly.”

There was a brief moment of quiet. Ixaleii was obviously shaken by the concept of any of her trusted allies wanting her dead.

“There’s only one solution,” Lana said, breaking the silence. “You must monitor everyone.”

Theron felt panic flood him, and launched himself upright, probably way too quickly.

“Hold on, Minister of Paranoia. You can’t invade everyone’s privacy to sniff out a single rat.”

“I can’t,” Lana admitted. “But the Commander can. Give the order and I’ll begin surveillance of everyone, even Theron and myself. It’s the only way to flush out the traitor.”

Theron felt every muscle in his body tense as he watched his wife mull things over. If she reached a conclusion that he didn’t like, his task was about to become much, much harder very quickly.

“I won’t let one traitor turn me against my followers,” she said finally, and Theron’s relief was immeasurable. “They’ve earned my trust.”

“I’m glad someone hasn’t lost their mind,” he said, grateful for his wife’s honorable and trusting nature. It was one of her best qualities, and despite the fact that he was actively manipulating that, he hoped that she would never lose it. He especially hoped that if she did, it wouldn’t be on his account.

“Trust is a risk,” Lana said coldly. “Now more than ever.”

Thankfully that was when Empress Acina arrived to update the Commander on the status of the war, and talk of rooting out the traitor was put on hold for a few moments, allowing Theron time to collect himself. When Acina had left, and Lana had made her chilling promises to have the Empress monitored, Theron had had ample time to think of what to say.

“I’ll promise you right now,” he said, his voice solemn and declarative. “Whoever this traitor is? We will find them.”

“And we’ll make them pay,” Lana added, in true Sith fashion.

“I know you will,” Ixaleii said, her gratefulness for her two most trusted advisors more than evident. “While you start searching, I’m going to win the war they started.”

“For the Eternal Alliance,” Theron said, somewhat subdued. The pronouncement made him uncomfortable, but he should have expected nothing less from the illustrious Eternal Alliance Commander Ixaleii Stardust.

Lana bowed slightly, and then turned to leave. Theron on the other hand, lingered. He knew his wife well enough to know she was about to ask him to stay regardless. With all of the official business out of the way, she could finally let her guard down, stop acting the way that she was supposed to act as Commander. There could only be one thing on her mind, he was sure because it was the only thing on his as well. He reached out, squeezing her shoulder slightly, letting her know he was there. Her hand flew to his almost immediately, gripping hard enough to make her knuckles whiten.

“Theron…”

“I know,” he said, his heart breaking for her.

“That power surge from the throne was massive,” she said, her voice shaking, all of her previous stately composure now dropped. “I… lost them, didn’t I?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Theron said in a low voice, though he was sure there was no way an unborn child could have survived anything like that. “There wasn’t any way to run any sort of tests, not with Lana there. There’s still hope.”

_Hope that I didn’t murder our children._

Ixaleii looked around, assessing her surroundings.

“We’re in a med bay now, can’t we…?”

Theron nodded. She was right. It would be better to know as soon as possible.

“I’ll do the scans for you,” he said, and the watery smile that she gave him was enough to make his gut twist with more guilt than he’d experienced yet that day. And that was saying something, because Theron was sure he was at one of the lowest lows he’d experienced yet in his life. Even just acknowledging that was bringing up feelings he’d rather stay buried.

_You killed your own father, too. If he hadn’t been lured here he’d still be alive._

Theron jerked his head abruptly, as if he could physically shake the thought away. He didn’t need to be confronted with that right now. He instead shifted his focus to his wife, and making sure she had the answers she needed to soothe her mind. Not knowing had to be worse than any other torment, Theron was sure of it.

He found the proper equipment easily. The med bay the Alliance had been able to set up here on Iokath was particularly well equipped, all in all.

“Here, lie down,” he said to Ixaleii gently, guiding her back to the bed she had been sleeping in just before. As she lay down, she took a moment to look up at him, and her mournful eyes said everything. Theron swallowed. In a lot of ways, things would be much easier if she’d lost the children, but for some reason he couldn’t explain, the very thought of that possibility made Theron sick to his stomach. He began the scans, holding his wife’s hand the whole time, feeling his fingers go numb from the strength of her grip. They were the most agonizing minutes of his life so far.

As he analyzed the results on the device’s readout, Theron couldn’t believe his eyes. The emotion that flooded through him was immediate, causing his eyes to sting. It was almost hard to get the words out as he told Ixaleii the news.

“They’re… alive. Both hearts are beating just fine.”

“Oh, Theron,” she cried, immediately dissolving into tears as she flung her arms around him. Theron held her tightly, still holding back his own tears. He wasn’t even sure if he deserved to shed them. “Theron, I’m so relieved.”

“I know,” he said, hoarsely. “I’m happy for you.”

She pulled away from their embrace, wiping her eyes and regarding her husband with an almost unreadable expression. Ixaleii reached out to touch his face, and he closed his eyes as she did. It was almost as if she knew how raw Theron felt inside.

“Are you going to be okay?” she said gently, her voice still slightly thick from the tears. “I know you and Malcolm weren’t close, but I know that sometimes that can make it even worse.”

Theron nodded slowly, his face twitching slightly as he fought the urge to dissolve into a torrent of emotions. She was right. The lack of closure was probably the worst part about it. He struggled with what to say, opening his mouth to speak several times and then faltering each one, until he finally managed to string a sentence together. What eventually came out of his mouth surprised even him.

“What am I going to tell my mother?”

Ixaleii’s eyes widened slightly, and she once again pulled him in to hold him tightly. Theron held on and let himself cry for a moment. What an awful mess.


	3. Fractured Alliances, Fractured Hearts

“I’m sorry Commander, was there anything else you needed?”

Ixaleii Stardust felt herself blink. That’s right. She must have been lost in thought. She looked over to the droid querying her, the kindly medical droid TS-9. Tee-Es was a Republic model originally, and served as a gurney of sorts at the Alliance hospital where Ixaleii received her pre-natal care. And he was one of the few beings in the galaxy Ixaleii was able to talk to about her pregnancy openly. However, as much as it would be nice to have a chat with someone she knew wasn’t going to judge her, even if he was a droid, there were other things she needed to attend to. Today wasn’t a day to dawdle.

“No, thank you, Tee-Es,” she said, smiling. The droid, though technically expressionless, tilted his head slightly in a way that made him look endearing.

“If you’re sure Commander, then I’ll leave you to your duties. You have a lovely day!”

Ixaleii watched the droid leave. She finished fastening her shirt, falling back into the thoughts that had been drawing her mind so far away. This had been more than just a typical pre-natal visit—She was still worried, after putting her body through so much stress back on Iokath. Despite the scans Theron had been so kind to do for her almost immediately after the fact, Ixaleii had spent the days they’d been back in a state of perpetual fear that the trauma would somehow catch up with her unborn children. 

Maybe Theron had been right, with what he’d said what he’d said back on Tython. If this was the way that things were going to be, maybe she shouldn’t keep them. She was Commander of the Eternal Alliance, that wasn’t exactly a risk free occupation— Ixaleii sometimes felt like she spent her life getting shot at more often than not. But then she’d think of Corso, who’d be returning from the Outer Rim in a few days, and how overjoyed he was going to be to have a family, how much both of them had wanted that for years. It was the sort of choice that almost seemed impossible to make.

Still deep in her upsetting thoughts, Ixaleii left the hospital and set out towards the staging area on the main base. Theron had summoned her to brief her about something, she wasn’t sure what exactly, but she had her guesses. All they ever seemed to talk about recently was the war on Iokath, or the search for the traitor. Theron had been withdrawn and quiet outside of their work lives, and he seemed intent on spending a great deal of his time alone. As lonely as it was not having Theron there to spend her free time with, or to hold her at night, she didn’t have the heart to confront him about it. Not when it was so obvious how broken up he was about losing his father. Ixaleii had become an orphan at a young age, but she could still remember how raw she’d felt then. And those had been parents that she loved, who had treated her with nothing but affection and kindness. She couldn’t imagine losing a father like Jace Malcolm. The lack of closure almost seemed to be eating Theron alive.

If there was one thing Ixaleii knew about her husband, it was that when he was upset, he worked himself to death half the time in an attempt to not feel anything, and then the rest of the time he simply wanted to be alone. She could respect that. He would come around in his own time; he just needed the chance to heal. That’s why it didn’t surprise her in the least as she approached him in the staging area, datapad glued to his hand as was par for the course, that he hardly looked up to acknowledge her. This wasn’t her husband. This was Theron Shan on the job.

“Commander. Fresh news from the war on Iokath,” he said, sounding weary. “Republic troops captured one of our supply stations. The Empire’s leading a retaliation, but we’re locked in a stalemate.”

Ixaleii frowned. Was that all he’d wanted her here to tell her? She didn’t need him to brief her to know that the war was going badly. Sometimes, Ixaleii had to wonder if Iokath was even worth it. She was sick of war, especially one as pointless as this.

“You always know how to cheer me up,” she said, not bothering to hide her peevishness. Theron glowered slightly at her. She decided not to press it, instead changing the subject. “What about our hunt for the traitor in our ranks?”

“We’re questioning everyone from the usual suspects to your top advisors. So far, everyone looks clean. We’ll find the traitor, but these mole hunts take time.”

There was something about how weary he seemed that struck Ixaleii, and gave her pause. She was lucky to have someone like him in her life, someone so devoted to making sure she was safe. She just wished Theron wouldn’t let it consume him as easily as he often did.

“I know how much energy you’re putting into this,” she said gently, and watched Theron soften as she spoke. “It means a lot to me.”

“And you mean a lot to me,” he said, equally as tender. He was closing the distance between them now, smiling, but in a sad, far off sort of way. Ixaleii swallowed as he came closer. “I’d do anything to protect you,” Theron declared softly, and Ixaleii couldn’t help but smile. She’d missed him, she realized. This side of him.

“Theron Shan, are you getting romantic on me?” she said, hoping it was true. The corners of his mouth were already pulling into an all too familiar smirk, one that Ixaleii hadn’t seen in a long while. It made her stomach lurch.

“Is it working?” he asked, coming yet closer.

“Absolutely,” she replied, and let him kiss her breathless. It’d been a long time since they’d shared a kiss like this. Too long. She almost didn’t want him to pull away, and if he did, Ixaleii half wished that Theron would follow the action but lifting her into his arms and carrying her off to her quarters. Instead he simply smiled at her, hands running over her shoulders. The smile was tinged with the same sadness that all of his smiles were lately, and his eyes almost seemed far away. It seemed like he needed more time before that was going to change.

“Now if only I could produce results,” he said, sighing slightly.

“Lighten up Theron, things aren’t all doom and gloom,” said Lana, with more good humor in her voice than Ixaleii had heard in a long while. It didn’t stop her sudden approach from making the Commander jump slightly.

“Well you look cheery today, Lana. Did Gault spike the caf again?” Theron called to her as she approached, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Even better,” Lana replied, ignoring Theron’s needling. “I found a lead. Alliance agents picked up a signal from the Shadow World of Umbara. It’s encrypted with the same algorithm the traitor used on Iokath. They’re still on the planet, helping our Republic foes grab a massive stockpile of Adegan crystals.”

Ixaleii felt her heart almost stop. This was it.

“Let’s keep this quiet until we know who’s trustworthy. I’ll lead a small strike team and capture the traitor myself.

“I’ll provide backup,” Theron said almost immediately. She felt her heart swell. She’d hoped he’d be there. Whoever this ended up being, Ixaleii knew it would be easier to take with Theron at her side to steady her.

“As will I,” Lana chimed in, and that made Ixaleii feel even better. The two of them had always been such pillars of strength for her. “The Republic won’t give up their precious crystals without a fight.”

That made Ixaleii’s stomach churn a bit. Though her stomach had been churning more often than not lately, she knew this time it was the promise of more fighting that was making her queasy.

“Both sides have tinkered with Adegan crystals for years,” Theron was explaining, but Ixaleii was still preoccupied with her nausea. “Part of an arms race to build a new arsenal of superweapons.”

“If we move quickly we can corner the traitor and hijack those crystals,” Lana said, her excitement at the prospect more than evident. “Intel says they’re on an Umbaran supply train headed for the capital city.”

“Then we leave now,” Ixaleii declared, sounding more sure than she felt. “The traitor won’t escape us this time.”

Lana nodded, fire already burning behind her yellow eyes. She’d been waiting for this ever since knowing the threat of a traitor existed. Ixaleii could always count on her Sith advisor for zeal, that was for sure. Pragmatist or no, she was still fueled by passion.

Theron on the other hand seemed more subdued, but Ixaleii couldn’t blame him. She was just as weary. She felt no joy at the prospect of discovering which of her friends had decided to stab her in the back. This wasn’t something either of them seemed to be looking forward to.

The flight to Umbara ended up being a short one, with just the three of them on board Theron’s shuttle, it had been easy to set off quickly, and they’d made good time. Theron was quiet for most of the flight, which didn’t surprise Ixaleii at all, but it was still a welcome distraction when he eventually approached her, asking softly to speak to her alone.

Theron’s shuttle was small, but it did have a small secluded area towards the back where the bunk was located, and that’s where he led her.

“What is it, Theron?” Ixaleii asked warily. There was something about his demeanor that was slightly gloomier than it usually was. Something about this mission was bothering him. He sat down on the bunk, staring at her face for a moment before he finally spoke.

“…..Corso will be back on Odessen soon, won’t he?” was what he eventually said, which of all the possibilities was not what Ixaleii had been expecting. She sat opposite of him, her puzzlement clear on her face.

“Yeah, he sent word just before we left,” she said. “You knew that.”

“That will be good. For you, especially,” Theron said, seeming far away. She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. It seemed like the silence stretching between them was parsecs wide, but eventually he did continue. “Ix, I just want you to know that I know I haven’t been easy to deal with lately. I’m sorry. It… I… It’ll all be in the past soon enough.”

That struck Ixaleii as a slightly strange way to phrase it, but she reached out to touch his face gently. Theron leaned into her touch.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said kindly. He gave her a look that she knew well, one that said ‘ _No, I wanted to_.’ She sighed, stroking his cheek a bit. “Theron, you always take the weight of the whole galaxy on your back. You don’t have to worry about me. You lost someone. I understand.”

“You’re more important to me than he ever was,” he said, a slightly raw edge to his voice.  “Whatever happens down there, I—”

A loud and persistent beeping was starting to sound from the cockpit of the shuttle. Theron jerked his head in the direction of the sound, causing Ixaleii’s hand to fall away.

“That’ll be the proximity alarm. We’re coming out of hyperspace.”

He stood and walked off in the direction of the helm without a single other word. Ixaleii sat there for a second, frowning. She shook her head slightly, and then stood to follow him. Now was not the time to be dwelling on Theron and his emotional turmoil. They had a traitor to apprehend.

Theron brought them down through the atmosphere to the planet’s surface, and it was long at all before the train was within their sights. He initiated a sequence on the shuttle’s console that would allow him to pilot it via his neural implants, and then opened the gang plank. The whooshing of the wind was almost deafening, and they were right above the train now as it sped along its route of suspended electromagnetic gates. Ixaleii couldn’t help but feel her nausea return as the three of them approached the edge of the gangplank. This was it.

“The train is on the move and the traitor’s on board,” Lana said, though it was plain enough for all of them to see.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Theron added. His eyes locked on Ixaleii’s and she nodded. It was time to get this done.

She jumped down onto moving train below her easily, and Theron and Lana followed suit within seconds, a heavy metallic clunk ringing out as each one landed behind her. The three of them advanced, weapons already drawn. It was going to be a hard fought battle to make it to the front of the train, and to the traitor.

Theron’s words actually ended up being somewhat prophetic on that score, however, as it truly wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle. The enemies were numerous, to be sure, but it wasn’t long at all before they had reached the head car of the train, the car Lana said the traitor’s signal was originating from. Ixaleii felt the sweat beading on her forehead as she approached the heavy door, throwing it open with a light groan of exertion.

Theron entered the area before either of them, his blaster raised and his stance slightly crouched, and he signaled silently to each of them in turn, giving them the go-ahead. The car was empty, and eerily silent, but there was one last door at the end of it. Lana approached it, scowling.

“The traitor’s on the other side of that door,” she said, her voice a low growl. Ixaleii felt her heart pounding hard in her chest as she reached for door’s automatic mechanism. Ready or not, this was it.

The door slammed open, but something was wrong. There was no one there. The train’s controls were completely unmanned, the car abandoned. Ixaleii reeled. That didn’t seem right.

“They’re gone,” she said, shocked.

“That’s impossible,” Lana hissed, though Ixaleii could tell the Sith could see the emptiness of the room as plain as she could. “According to the signal, they’re still on the convoy…” Ixaleii watched as Lana trailed off, and turned slowly, her expression distorting with complete horror and shock. “NO!” she screamed, and before Ixaleii had a chance to turn her head to see or even react, there was the sound of blaster fire, and Lana was jumping in front of her, shielding the life of her Commander. Crackling purple energy surrounded Lana as she felt to the ground with a resounding thud. She must have used the Force to… to…

Slowly, and filled with dread, Ixaleii raised her head, and looked the traitor in the eyes down the sights of his blaster.

“Theron…?” she said in disbelief.  But there was no denying it. Theron Shan had his blaster aimed right at her head, and his eyes were completely dead and unfeeling. Theron Shan had just shot Lana. Theron Shan had tried to shoot her. Theron Shan, the man that she loved, the man who had been by her side for years, the father of her unborn children—he was the traitor.

“It’s over Commander,” he said in a cold voice that she knew all too well, but it was one that she’d never been on the receiving end of. The shock was so overwhelming, Ixaleii barely had the presence of mind to dodge the next few shots. Suddenly, console controlling the train began to flash red, and a force field crackled to life between them, on the threshold between the control room and the car. “In a few minutes, this train will collide with that mountain range. You’ll be disintegrated, and I’ll escape with the Adegan crystals. Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.”

The true horror of her situation was still dawning on Ixaleii, but she was starting to process it, bit by bit. She stared at Theron, her heart feeling like it was torn into tinier and tinier pieces. What had done it? What had caused this to happen? Had… Was all of it a lie? When had he started to work against her? It was too painful to even fathom. She felt her hands fly to her lower abdomen. Their unborn twins were never going to see life. She was going to die.

“Did you ever love me, or was that all part of the act?” Ixaleii asked, voice low and accusatory. The pain flashed in his dead eyes for less than a second, but it was there. Evidently this was hard for him too.

“You know I love you… But this is bigger than us.” Theron at least had the decency to sound broken as he said that. “Luring you into that trap on Iokath was just the beginning. Ever since you defeated Valkorion, everything I’ve done has been towards one goal: The total destruction of the Eternal Alliance.”

Ixaleii remembered then the night she’d won the Eternal Throne, how Theron and her had made love and in all likelihood conceived the children she was carrying now. He’d been upset then. Was she really that blind? And then there’d been the trip to Tython. He still hadn’t told her what exactly Satele Shan had said to him. Ixaleii had assumed at the time that Theron had just been upset about her being pregnant but… She swayed. None of it made sense. How could Theron be doing this?

“You helped build the Alliance!” she shouted. “After everything we’ve been through, why tear it down now?”

Theron had started to pace, and he was obviously agitated.

“What I built was an end to the Eternal Empire, not this!” he shouted back. “I followed you because I believed you’d end the cycle of war. I thought we’d finally be free once you took down Valkorion. But the Alliance outgrew you. Now it’s rotting from the inside, the galaxy’s fighting back, and you’ve become a symbol of oppression. So much for your dreams of peace.”

A symbol of oppression? Was that true? Ixaleii reeled. She knew she’d failed by allowing the war on Iokath to take place, but the tyrant Theron was describing sounded like someone she didn’t know.

“If you felt this way, you should have come to me first,” she said, an edge of desperation leaking into her voice.

“I wanted to tell you,” Theron said, sounding far away and small. “But I knew you’d try to talk me down. I couldn’t take that risk.”

‘ _Theron, you know that’s a lie,_ ’ she thought even as she stared him down, trying to get him to meet her eyes so she could figure out just what he was thinking. ‘ _I would have left the Alliance behind in a heartbeat if you’d asked me._ ’

“If you topple the Alliance, millions will die,” she said instead, her voice harsh. Theron’s reply was cold and unfeeling.

“If that’s the cost of peace, so be it.” He looked down at a device on his wrist, then back at up at her, his expression softened slightly. Their eyes finally met. The pain that Ixaleii saw there was heart-wrenching. Why was he putting himself through this? “Thirty seconds to impact. This is goodbye.”

He maintained their eye contact for a few more agonizing seconds, and then turned away abruptly.

“I’ll always love you, Theron. Nothing will ever change that,” she shouted frantically at his retreating back.  She watched his shoulders slump, but other than that, there was no reaction, no reply. He uncovered a speeder that was evidently hidden in the car, and kicking it into gear, began to make his escape.

Ixaleii was horrorstruck. This could be the end. She felt stirring at her feet and turned.

“Lana!”

Her Sith advisor was struggling to her feet, looking around and getting her bearings. There was a loud and concussive bang, and suddenly the train’s console began to go haywire.

“Warning, collision imminent. Brace for impact,” the console was proclaiming in a tinny voice, and Ixaleii froze. That was when she felt her feet lift of the ground, Lana hoisting her roughly from below her armpits.

“We need to survive long enough to make Theron pay,” the Sith cried. “Jump!”

Lana threw them both from the train then, and though she was able to cushion their landing through the Force, the impact was still jarring. There was a deafening crash and exploding flames, as the train careened out of control. Had they both been on it, there is no doubt that had Ixaleii and Lana would have died instantly. As she lay there, wincing at the pain, Ixaleii almost felt like she was watching her body from above. She’d survived. Whether the same was true for her children… She didn’t want to think about it too hard. Not when they still had to fight.

The burning wreckage of the train was scattered all around them as they took off in pursuit of Theron. There was still a chance they could catch him, though Ixaleii wasn’t exactly sure what they were going to do if they did. Subdue him? Kill him?

The alert tone of her comm was suddenly ringing, and Ixaleii answered immediately.  It had to be Theron.

“Not surprised you survived the crash,” he said. “I didn’t think it’d be that easy. But it buys me enough time to get offworld.”

“Theron, come back. We can talk about this,” she pleaded.

“We’re long past that,” was his only reply before the line went dead.

“I don’t understand,” Lana said from a few paces ahead. Her back was to the Commander, her head hung in shame. “How did I not see this coming? Was I really that blind?”

Ixaleii swallowed.

“If anyone was blind, it was me. We were…” She trailed off, unable to finish. The truth was, she wasn’t even sure what she’d wanted to say. _We were married. We were in love. We were soulmates. We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives at each other’s sides._

“I know. I’m sorry Commander,” Lana said gently, pulling her away from her thoughts. Ixaleii shook her head. This was no time to be dwelling on this. They had to catch Theron. And they had to defeat the enemies that were closing in around them from all sides.

It was grueling, fighting through the wildlife and murderous Umbaran assassins to finally reach Theron’s shuttle, but Lana and Ixaleii managed to do it. But of course, they were too late. Theron was already on the gangplank of his ship, and it was taking off. Again, Ixaleii felt her eyes meet with his, and this time all she was greeted with was cold, unfeeling fury. He began to turn away, silent, and Ixaleii felt her heart breaking all over again.

“This isn’t over, Theron,” she shouted, and he bristled very slightly.

“No,” he called back. “This is just beginning.”

That was when a huge tank droid appeared, attacking her and Lana without giving them so much as a second to breathe. The thing was absolutely massive, larger than most walkers and even some of the colossal titans she’d fought on Iokath. It was only through Lana’s aid, and her sheer refusal to die that Ixaleii was able to defeat the massive thing, and once it was finally done, she collapsed to the ground, exhausted. When was it going to end?

“Commander!” Lana called, running over to her side.

“Call… for an extraction,” she said wearily. Lana’s face of dismay was the last thing she saw before passing out.

Ixaleii awoke in the Alliance hospital, confused, and with no idea how time had passed. It all came flooding back to her before she’d even been able to adjust to her surroundings. Theron was gone. He children were probably dead. Noticing that she was alone, Ixaleii finally allowed herself to break down, weeping for several minutes as the despair came over her in waves.

“Commander, is it okay for me to enter?” She looked up, startled out of her tears. It was TS-9. Ixaleii wiped at her eyes, and nodded.

“Yes, Tee-Es, please.”

“Thank you, Commander.” The droid was carrying a tray with food, and he placed it gently on her lap. “I heard about Theron Shan, Commander. Please accept my deepest condolences.”

Ixaleii didn’t reply. It was dawning on her now that this was all she was going to be hearing for months. She didn’t want to be consoled. She wanted Theron back.

“Mistress Beniko also wanted me to let you know that as soon as you were feeling better that she wishes to meet with you in the staging area. You were only being treated for mild exhaustion, so you’re free to leave as soon as you feel able.”

“Thank you, Tee-Es,” she said quietly. The droid nodded, and then waited expectantly, as if he knew she wasn’t done. “Tee-Es… Did the doctors say anything…? Are my children…?”

“The twins you’re carrying are completely unharmed,” the droid pronounced, matter of fact. “Though for the sake of discretion, we did not share this with Mistress Beniko. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, Tee-Es, that’s… Thank you.” Ixaleii was becoming overwhelmed with emotion again. The droid inclined his head and left, leaving her to stare at the food on her lap, feeling emotionally drained and dead inside.

Ixaleii forced herself to eat quickly, then dressed and took off in the direction of the Alliance staging area. Whatever Lana had to say to her, she wanted to hear it and be done with it. Her emotions had already been through enough for one day.

When she arrived, Lana was deeply engrossed with her datapad, but nodded as the Commander entered. She didn’t offer any condolences. Ixaleii was grateful for that.

“We recovered most of the Adegan crystals,” she began instead. “Once we tap into their power, Iokath is as good as ours.”

“And Theron?” Ixaleii asked, unable to help herself. Lana’s expression darkened.

“Word of his betrayal is spreading quickly. My agents are running damage control, but it will be weeks before we know how much harm he inflicted.” The Sith sighed heavily. “Even with the truth out in the open, I can hardly believe Theron was the traitor.” Ixaleii nodded. Lana and Theron had been close friends, though neither one of them probably would ever admit it.

“I loved him,” Ixaleii said wearily, feeling keenly how wrong it was to refer to their love in the past tense. Like he was dead or something. “I’m still trying to figure out where the lies stopped and the truth began.” Lana gave her a sympathetic look, one that seemed incongruous with her glowing yellow eyes, but at the same time seemed completely genuine.

“We’ll be piecing that mystery together for months,” she said with a sigh, pausing to shake her head slightly. “……We should brace ourselves for Theron’s next move.”

That’s right. This wasn’t over. Ixaleii mulled over their options, feeling unsatisfied with each one. But something was standing out to her. Satele Shan. Ixaleii had a terrible feeling that whatever she’d said to Theron that night they’d left Tython was where all of this had started, she just didn’t know how or why.

“Theron’s father may be dead, but his mother’s still alive. Find out what she knows.”

“I already have feelings digging in to Satele’s whereabouts. I’ll begin the hunt at once.”

That was news to Ixaleii. She didn’t know the Grand Master was even missing.

“Before you start, I want to send a message to Theron,” she said, the thought coming to her completely spur of the moment. “Open a holochannel, and prepare to broadcast it across the galaxy.”

Lana crossed over to the computer console, her fingers making a few keystrokes and activating the holo terminal behind them.

“Clearing channels now. What message will you send the traitor?”

 _Traitor._ That would take some getting used to.

A beam emanated from the holoterminal, capturing her likeness to broadcast to every planet and craft that had the capability to receive it. She swallowed, thinking about what to say.

“This is the Commander of the Eternal Alliance. I have a message for my… old friend, Theron Shan.” Old friend. She could hardly believe herself. She paused, trying to get a better handle on her thoughts before she continued. “We’ve been through a lot together, Theron. In your honor, I’m dedicating a hundred Eternal Fleet ships to the fight for peace. Return to the Alliance, and these ships will be yours to command. We can end the cycle of war, but we have to work together. I love you, Theron. Come home.”

_I love you too, but I can’t._

Ixaleii could almost hear his reply as if he were standing right beside her, but when the holoterminal powered down and the transmission ended, there was only silence and the quiet whirring of the machines that surrounded her and Lana.

“I’ll be in my quarters. I don’t want to be disturbed unless it’s urgent,” she announced to Lana, turning on her heel to leave.

Once alone in her quarters, Ixaleii broke down again, her tears streaming down her face freely. What was she going to do? She thought of her poor children, and her despair only deepened. What was she going to tell Corso? What was she going to tell the whole Alliance? And Theron… How could she have truly been that blind? He must have been harboring this secret hatred of her for months. She could hardly blame him for it, all things considered. She was obviously failing at leading the Alliance somehow. She had brushed off all Theron’s concerns after they’d defeated Valkorion, and now she regretted every second of it. She kept thinking of all the memories they had together, the tender moments, the arguments, the battles they’d been in. He’d been a near constant presence in her life since for years, and the void that he was leaving behind was staggering.

There was a ringing coming from her holoterminal, and she almost screamed. Ixaleii didn’t want to have to be the Commander right now. That’s why she’d told Lana she’d wanted to be left alone, after all.  She almost didn’t answer the call, but something wouldn’t let her. The galaxy wasn’t going to go away just because she was upset. As the crackling blue image of the caller came into clear view, Ixaleii felt her jaw drop. She hadn’t expected this.

“Master Satele,” she said, her expression one of complete shock.

But the Jedi Grand Master was there, as plain as day, her expression austere and her eyes sad. Ixaleii reeled, waiting for the woman to speak.

“I’ve heard about my son,” she said quietly. “Words can’t express how sorry I am about this, Ixaleii. He loves you very much, I hope you can hold onto that.”

“How did you know?” Ixaleii demanded, hating how angry she sounded. Satele however, with her ascetic grace, did not seem fazed by the outburst.

“I saw your broadcast. And I… felt it.”

“What do you want from me?” Ixaleii asked next, again ashamed of how she was acting.

“I wanted to offer you something,” Satele said calmly. “Your children… Theron’s children… Ixaleii, if you don’t feel up to the task yourself after this betrayal, I wanted to let you know I will gladly take care of your children and raise them as my own. It’s… It’s the least I can do.”

Ixaleii was silent. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected but it wasn’t… that. Satele was waiting serenely for her to respond, but she wasn’t even sure what to say. It was an offer that actually might be worth considering, but Ixaleii didn’t think she could make the choice right now. Not with her heart so raw like this. She didn’t want to make a choice that she’d regret.

“I’ll have to think about this, Satele,” she said quietly, and the Grand Master nodded. “It’s a very generous offer for you to make, thank you. I just don’t know if it’s something I can think about just yet.”

“I understand,” Satele said gently. Ixaleii felt her heart rend. There was something about the Grand Master’s voice just then that reminded her of Theron. It shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise, considering that Satele had given birth to him after all, but it was unexpected all the same.

“Thank you,” Ixaleii said eventually, and she watched Satele nod.

“May the Force be with you, Ixaleii Stardust. We’ll speak again soon.”

With that, her image disappeared from the holoterminal, and Ixaleii once again found herself alone in her quarters. She felt a profound wave of exhaustion crash over her, and she staggered in the direction of her bed, not even bothering to disrobe before crawling into the bed and drawing the covers tight around herself. The bed felt huge, cold and lonely, but she couldn’t fight the urge to sleep.

The last thought to enter her mind before the exhaustion took her over completely was that when Corso found out about all of this, it was going to take half her energy just to keep him from taking off and killing Theron himself.


	4. Revalations in the Dark

Apart from the Commander, there were few people to whom Theron’s duplicity came as such a crushing personal blow other than Lana Beniko. Theron had been one of the few people Lana had trusted in the Alliance, and they’d been working together for so many years, she had even gone so far as to consider him one of her only friends. To betray that trust was simply unforgivable. The Commander, poor Ixaleii, she might be willing to extend Theron Shan leniency, but quite simply put, Lana thought her leader was completely delusional. Not that she didn’t understand or pity the Alliance Commander—Theron had been Ixaleii’s lover, they’d shared an incredibly deep bond, one Lana suspected might even have its foundations in the Force. But Lana also knew deep down inside Theron was never coming back. To entertain any thought to the contrary was quite simply folly. She found herself being so consumed with her thoughts of revenge and tracking him down, she barely ate or slept.

That’s why it was so odd that on this night, Lana found herself in the Alliance’s base cantina as opposed to in her office. Yes, Koth Vortena had threatened to physically drag her, but as she’d reminded Koth icily, she could very easily rip him to pieces if he so much as tried. But he didn’t let the matter drop, as she assumed he might. Instead, Koth spoke to her in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

“Look, Lana,” he’d said. “I know you’re beating yourself up about Agent Shan. We all are. Every single one of us feels like we should have seen this coming. But you’ll be no use to the commander if you work yourself half to death. Even you need a night to relax every once in a while.”

“Yes, fine,” she’d replied irritably. “You’ve made your point, Koth.”

One of the first things Lana noticed upon entering the cantina was the unusually somber atmosphere. It seemed the effects of Theron’s desertion had been far-reaching. Yes, Theron had been a curmudgeon and a workaholic, and quite frankly, an ill-tempered son-of-a-Hutt at pretty much all times, but he was also so highly respected and looked up to as a legend by so many in their ranks. And his loyalty had been seen as so unwavering. Especially since, if the rumors were to be believed, he and the Commander were actually married. Lana had never asked, and now she didn’t have the heart to. She’d known about Ixaleii and Theron’s frequent private rendezvous and that more often than not Theron spent the night with his Commander on her personal ship: that had been almost impossible to ignore, even if she’d wanted to. But Lana also knew the Commander was married—and had been since before the war with Zakuul—to Corso Riggs, who’d been her first-mate back when she was a smuggling captain. Not that a woman having multiple partners was something Lana took any issue with, it’d been common enough among the upper echelons of Sith society. But it was less common to consider the two partners to be equals that knew about each other, and as far as Lana was concerned, the whole matter simply wasn’t anyone’s business besides the Commander’s.

The cantina’s patrons gave Lana a wide berth as she made her way across the room, all except one man, seated at the bar. Lana didn’t even recognize him at first as she sat beside him, as his hunched stance was completely uncharacteristic. But the mop of dreads atop his head was unmistakable. It was Corso. The Commander’s husband.

“We don’t see you in here too often Miss Beniko,” he said. “Not recently, anyways.”

“Yes, well, I’ve been slightly preoccupied,” Lana said icily. Corso’s face darkened.

“Oh, let me guess,” he said. Venom seemed be dripping from every syllable as he continued. “Theron Shan.”

Lana didn’t reply, simply signaled the bartender that she wanted a drink. She got the impression Corso had already been at it for a few hours, and that it was probably best not to engage. But the former merc seemed to be on a roll that no one could stop.

“I let him sleep in my bed. I let him sleep with my _wife._ I _trusted_ that scum-sucking core slime, because he said he _loved_ her.” In a somewhat disconcerting move, Corso took a blaster from his hip and began to turn it over and over in his hands. “Promise me one thing, Miss Beniko: When you find him, make him suffer. Death is too good for that traitor.”

Lana took a long draught from her drink, regarding Corso warily.

“Your wife wants to forgive him,” she said, guarded. “She seems to think there’s still hope.”

“My wife,” Corso repeated bitterly, tears brimming in his eyes. “Do you want to know the good that _hope_ is doing for my wife? It’s eating her alive! Have you seen the Captain lately, Lana? Like really looked at her?”

Lana looked away from Corso. There was something in his eyes that made her feel unsettled. The truth was, Lana had been avoiding the Commander because her presence lately was almost oppressive, and for a Sith that was saying something.

“She’s not well, I know that much,” Lana said hollowly.

“If you don’t catch him soon,” Corso said, sounding every bit like a man who was two steps from falling off the deep end. “She isn’t going to last. I’m not exaggerating Lana, this is killing her. The bastard is killing her. When I got back, and the two of you had just returned from Umbara… I’ve never seen her like that before. Inconsolable like that.  And there was nothing, nothing I-“ He choked up, wiping his eyes a bit before continuing. “I love her more than anything and there’s nothing I can do to comfort her. She wants _him._ And it’s been even worse since Copero.”

“Where is the Commander tonight, Corso?” Lana asked. “Perhaps I should speak to her. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Not to be a dick, Miss Beniko, but that letter you sent her on the holonet? The one where you mentioned the torture and whatnot? It didn’t help. I don’t know if one of your pep talks would be any better”

Lana felt a slight pang of guilt. The letter he was talking about probably hadn’t been anything Ixaleii had wanted to hear, considering how deeply devoted she was to the idea that Theron would come back to her any day now. But the Commander had to face facts. Theron was lost. The sooner everyone accepted that tracking him down meant interrogating him or possibly killing him, the better. But still, if the Commander was in as fragile a state as Corso seemed to be implying……

“Just tell me where she is.”

Corso sighed heavily.

“She’s probably in her headquarters,” he said, sounding more than a little defeated. “She…… doesn’t stay with me on our ship much anymore. It reminds her too much of him.”

Lana squeezed Corso’s shoulder bracingly, as best she could. She wasn’t a woman who knew much about comforting others, all things considered.

“The Force still fights with me, Corso. I’m not helpless in this search. And I _will_ make him pay.” Corso’s face darkened slightly, but he nodded. Lana could tell they were both thinking the same thing. Theron had been their friend. Knowing he was going to pay dearly for his betrayal was a cold comfort. “You should get some rest,” she added

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Corso admitted, standing. “Drinking away the pain never seems to work the way you want it to, huh?”

“Not in my experience, no,” Lana replied. Corso gave her a small smile, and walked out of the cantina, swaying slightly. The Sith had to sigh a bit as she looked back to her drink, finishing it quickly. So much for unwinding. She made sure as she left to put her drink on Koth’s tab and made a mental note to bring it up if he ever tried to get her to “relax” again— so far Lana’s night was proving to be anything but “relaxing”.  

She found the Commander exactly where Corso said she would, and looking just as terrible too. Ixaleii was sitting at her desk, staring off into space, a forgotten datapad teetering in her hand, and a slowly revolving holo-portrait of Theron Shan on the desk in front of her.

“Commander,” Lana said, her tone a bit sharper than she intended. Ixaleii jumped, and she quickly moved to switch off the holo, dropping her datapad in the process. Her affinity with the Force allowing her to react almost instantaneously, Lana extended a hand, causing the datapad to bob and float in the air for a moment before guiding back into the Commander’s hand.

“You startled me, Lana,” Ixaleii said, sounding shaken. “What is it? Is something wrong? Did you learn something about Theron?”

Lana froze slightly, before making her way over to her Commander, face grim.

“No, Commander, that situation is much the same as it has been,” the Sith said, her concern rising as she watched the way her superior visibly deflated as she said it. “Commander, I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but are you….. okay?”

Ixaleii regarded her Sith advisor with a peculiar expression, but the emotions she felt were easy enough for Lana to read. Shame. Regret. Unbearable sadness. But there was something else. Something beneath the surface that puzzled Lana, puzzled her and made her nervous at the same time.

“……Corso sent you, didn’t he?” Ixaleii said.

“Not exactly,” said Lana. “I came here of my own volition, he actually was afraid I might upset you more.”

“I’m _fine_ Lana. I am. I swear. I miss him, yes. I don’t know why everyone expects me to be sunshine and rainbows. I’ll live, okay?”

The Commander smiled. Lana did not smile back. It wasn’t just the obvious façade that bothered her, but she could finally sense exactly what it was that had confused her earlier. There was a new sort of swirling energy within the commander, one that was tied to very painful emotions, and one that if Lana’s senses were not being deceived had very sinister implications. Lana took a moment to shut the door firmly, and then approached the Commander, face grim. She knew now that the situation her leader was in was far more agonizing than Corso Riggs had even begun to suspect.

“Commander,” she said, her voice low, quiet and deadly serious. Ixaleii looked at her somewhat confused, but Lana could also tell she had an inkling of what was about to be said. “Commander, how long have you known that you’re pregnant?”

The Commander’s face fell so rapidly, it was almost as if Lana had unsheathed her lightsaber and stabbed her leader in the chest. Ixaleii sat there, dazed, staring at her hands in her lap. Lana could see her tremble slightly.

“How…?” she began, touching her stomach as if self-conscious about its size. Now that Lana knew to look for it, the slight swelling, though barely noticeable, was undeniably there. She was actually surprised she hadn’t been able to sense the life growing within Ixaleii until now. The energy was different than that of a full grown person, different even than a child. Simpler, and yet somehow… more potential. And it gave her answers to several questions the more and more she focused on it.

“I can sense them. Twins. They’re… They’re Theron’s, aren’t they? Commander, how long have you known?”

“Since Tython,” Ixaleii replied, sounding like she might be sick.

“Does Theron know?”

“……I doubt he thinks they survived the crash on Umbara.”

“But he knew?” Lana said, feeling fury rising in her chest for the Commander. “Theron knew you were pregnant with his children and he… did this?”

“Theron’s never wanted children,” Ixaleii said hollowly. “The thought of them having to suffer like he did terrifies him. He… didn’t want me to keep them.”

Lana was dumbstruck. She let the Commander’s statement hang in the air for a moment, seething with rage at the thought of Theron Shan and his seemingly endless malevolence. She’d thought him capable of almost anything after his betrayal, but this was a new low. Not even when living in the Empire had Lana encountered such unfeeling cruelty. This changed Lana’s perspective of so many of the things her and the Commander had experienced since Theron’s betrayal. She couldn’t even begin to fathom what her leader must have felt on Umbara, each excruciating second of limbo Ixaleii must have been in hoping that her unborn children had survived the crash unharmed, chasing down their traitor of a father and begging him earnestly to see reason. She’d handled herself well, all things considered. Lana would not have been able to keep a fraction of that equanimity if put in the Commander’s shoes. She looked at Ixaleii now with a newfound respect. Lana had long since known the woman had a backbone of cortosis and durasteel, but this was on an entirely different level.

“Commander… Ixaleii. I am so sorry. Truly.”

The Commander nodded, wiping away a tear. Lana went to kneel beside her at the desk. She wasn’t particularly sure she was even equipped to comfort someone in the way that the Commander needed comforting, but she knew she had to try.

“Does Corso know?” Lana asked, and Ixaleii brusquely shook her head.

“And he’s not going to.”

That surprised Lana. There was no way the Commander was going to be able to keep this secret, not for much longer anyways. If she had sensed the children’s growing life-force, she was sure the others in the Alliance sensitive to the Force would soon be able to feel it too. Perhaps they already had and simply hadn’t said anything. Plus there was the mounting physical evidence of the pregnancy like the size of Ixaleii’s stomach, and the side-effects she was surely already experiencing. Considering that, Lana began to see her Commander’s avoidance of Corso Riggs in a new light.

“So you _are_ going to terminate,” Lana said, accepting that it was ultimately the Commander’s only logical choice.

“No, Lana, that’s not an option for me,” Ixaleii said flatly, and Lana again was surprised. “These children… If Theron never comes back to me, they will be the only reminder I have that he once loved me. Even… Even if I can’t raise them myself.”

Overcome with emotion, the Commander paused, and though she was bursting with a million questions, Lana waited patiently for the commander to regain her self-control.

“Satele Shan contacted me a few weeks ago,” the Commander began to explain. “She knows about my condition. She has since Tython. She offered to raise the children and I can’t think of a reason to deny her. With her at least they’ll be with family.” Ixaleii paused again, wiping another tear away. “Corso can’t know. He’d never forgive me for letting someone else raise them, not when he’s wanted a family for so long. But you know why they can’t stay, Lana. You know as well as me that any child of mine will be in danger here, with this Order after us. Especially if they’re Theron Shan’s children. I can’t let them be in danger because of my selfish desire to keep them close. I’ll… tell everyone that I’m needed off world for an important long-term mission. They won’t question it. And then I’ll stay in seclusion with Satele long enough to give birth and… and stay with them for a few days. It’ll be for the best.”

Lana was silent for a moment.

“I’m coming with you,” she said finally, hoping her commander would have the good sense not to argue. Luckily the Commander didn’t seem to be in an arguing mood.

“Thank you, Lana,” she said instead, quiet and appreciative. Lana nodded, rising.

“We’ll work out the logistics tomorrow,” she said. “Tonight, you should rest.”

Ixaleii smiled sadly. Assuming that was the best she was going to get as a response, Lana began to leave, but paused at the door.

“Be strong, Commander,” she said. “I believe in you.”

The Commander inclined her head, still wearing the same sad smile.

“That means a lot, Lana,” she said. “Thank you, again.”

“Of course.”

And then Lana left, heart feeling heavy and sick. A night to relax. She almost laughed. When this was all over, she’d have to tell Koth just how utterly wrong he’d been.

It took about a week to plan and put all of the arrangements in place for the Commander’s extended trip. The pretense was simple enough: Lana and the Commander were supposedly involved in a joint operation with the Jedi, a sign of good faith in an attempt to eventually mend relations with the Republic in the wake of the Iokath fiasco. Satele Shan had assured Lana that the other members of her Order were under the same impression from her as to the nature of the Grand Master’s own extended absence, so there would be no confusion should any member of the Alliance have contact with the Jedi. Lana felt confident that between Koth, Senya, Arcann, Bey’wan Aygo and the others advisors and key members of the Alliance that she was leaving behind that with occasional check-ins, the organization would be in good hands.

But then there was Corso Riggs. Lana could hardly blame him— she wasn’t surprised in the least when he was unwilling to understand why his wife would suddenly be gone for the next six months. It didn’t make dealing with it any easier.

“I just don’t get it,” he kept saying when she had briefed him. “Why so long? Why didn’t she consider asking me if I wanted to come along? What can be so damned important that she has to be gone for this long?”

“To be perfectly honest, Corso, I know as little as you do, and quite frankly even if I did know anything I have no reason why I should have to tell you,” Lana had snapped after close to an hour of a conversation that just kept going in circles. Even for her, it felt wrong lying to him, but ultimately it was about respecting the Commander and her wishes. “This is a classified and very sensitive mission that relies on intel given to us by the Jedi Order. Take it up with them. Or better yet, take it up with your wife. You should be voicing these concerns to her, not me. I don’t care how strained your marriage is.”

That had evidently been too low of a blow, because the moment she said it, Corso Riggs had flushed a shade of red that rivaled the skin tone of her former superior, Darth Arkous, and for a split second Lana was sure he intended to attack her. Her hand hovered over the hilt of her lightsaber, ready to strike if need be, but she felt relief flood her when Corso stormed out of the room angrily instead. Lana sighed, massaging her temples, trying to knead out the headache that was blooming behind her eyes. The sooner they left for Dantooine, the better.

The proposition of the remote and pastoral planet as their base of operations for the remainder of the Commander’s pregnancy had been Satele Shan’s suggestion, and Lana had seen no reason to object. It was practically uninhabited, and had been all but ignored during the war with Zakuul as a planet with next to no strategic military value. As far as Lana knew, the planet housed only a few sparsely populated farming communities, all of which were remote in relation to one another. Few neighbors meant fewer prying eyes, and less to worry about. Plus, Lana couldn’t help but be slightly eager to explore the planet’s rumored crystal caves, as well as the numerous ancient ruins of Jedi and Rakatan origin alike. Apparently in the time of Revan, there had even been a prominent Jedi enclave on the planet, and Revan himself had spent a great deal of time there. Lana couldn’t help but wonder if the familial connection had factored into Satele’s choice, but she never had the nerve to ask. Even with her recently softened demeanor, the Jedi Grand Master cut a daunting figure.

When the day finally came, Lana and the Commander left Odessen with little fanfare. Only a handful of people were there to see them off. Corso Riggs was notably missing from their number. Lana didn’t have long to dwell on that fact before Koth approached her, smiling.

“I tell you to take one night off and next thing I know, you’re going on an extended vacation with the Outlander,” he said, jokingly. She rolled her eyes, smiling just a bit.

“You know we aren’t doing this for our own amusement, Koth,” she said, and he laughed.

“Be careful, okay?” he said eventually, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You and the Commander both. Theron Shan’s still out there, with that Order he’s with or whatever.  He’s been quiet lately, but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous.”

“You be careful too,” Lana said. She then turned to Senya, who stood just a few paces away with her son. “All of you. I’ll try my best to be in touch as frequently as I can.”

Senya inclined her head sagely, and Koth nodded.

“The Alliance will be well looked after,” Senya said serenely. “You take care of what you must.”

There was something in the tone of Senya’s voice and the look in her eyes that gave Lana the feeling that the former Knight of Zakuul knew more than she was letting on. It wouldn’t have surprised Lana in the slightest if she did—Senya was strong in the force, and a mother as well. However, out of all the members of the Alliance to end up privy to Ixaleii’s secret, they could do worse than it being Senya.

Lana found her musings cut short by the commotion of Corso finally arriving in the hangar, and cutting a direct path to his wife. Though too far away from either of them to hear what was being exchanged, Lana could tell that they both were upset, and her intuition was telling her they had probably argued as recently as that morning. Ixaleii seemed to be crying, and Corso trying to comfort her, cupping her face in his hands as he spoke to her in a low tone. Sensing Koth at her side, Lana turned away.

“You look out for her,” he said, unusually somber. “We’re all worried. It hasn’t been easy, watching the Commander suffer like this.”

“Theron and her were almost like one being with one soul,” Lana observed. “I can’t blame her for being this affected. But the time away from the Alliance will do her well, I can feel it.”

By the time they both looked back, Corso was already leaving, just as suddenly as he had arrived. Lana frowned.

“I believe that’s our cue to depart,” she said grimly, and Koth nodded.

“What is it that you usually say? …May the force ever be there?”

“Close enough,” Lana said with a smile as she walked towards the XS. “Goodbye, Koth. May the force ever serve you.”

“That’s the one.”

Ixaleii had already boarded her craft and was sitting in the pilot’s seat when Lana joined her on the bridge, taking her place in the co-pilot’s chair.

“Are you all right, Commander?” she asked, unable to help herself, but Ixaleii didn’t reply, simply busied herself with the ship’s controls, initiating the takeoff sequence. Lana could feel the turmoil within her leader, the regret and shame. She only hoped that once they had reached the calm plains of Dantooine, and spent some time removed from the chaos and responsibility of the galaxy at large, that Ixaleii would be able to heal her frayed soul. Even if just the slightest bit.

“I’ll be fine piloting on my own, Lana, you go make yourself comfortable. It’s a long trip to Dantooine from here,” Ixaleii said eventually. Lana didn’t have to draw on her force powers to know what the Commander really meant: I want to be alone. She stood quietly, and gave her superior a bracing squeeze on the shoulder before she left the cockpit. She walked through into the ship’s common area, and quickly strapped herself into one of the passenger’s jump seats, readying herself for takeoff.

As they left Odessen’s atmosphere, Lana felt a determination settle over her. She had promised herself long ago that she’d be there for Ixaleii no matter what. This was her chance to finally prove that resolve. And come what may, Lana was ready


	5. The Fates of the Despondent

_Theron was alone in the Alliance base, only it wasn’t the Alliance base like he remembered it, it was larger and… wrong somehow. The walls of the hallways he walked down seemed to be swirling and shifting before his very eyes, as if he couldn’t quite perceive them. And it was cold. It was so cold. His steps seemed to echo at a volume that was almost deafening in the endlessly expansive halls, bouncing and reverberating and making his head hurt. There was a prickling on the back of his neck and his implants almost seemed to buzz in his skull, but every time he looked around he was completely and utterly alone. There was a door before him, a door that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, and yet one he recognized as being the door to Ixaleii’s quarters. The headquarters of the Alliance Commander. He pressed a panel beside the door and watched it slide open._

_At first he thought this room was empty too, but after looking closer he could just barely see a small figure in the bed on the other side of the room. His heart began to pound, so hard that he could hear and feel it in his temples. Against his better judgment, Theron felt himself drawn to the bed, and he began to walk towards it. The dread was building deep in his stomach, as if he already knew what he would find there._

_He could see before he even approached that it was her. Ixaleii. Of course it was her. Who else would be in her bed but her? But something was wrong. She was so still._

_“Ix!” he called out, but she didn’t stir. It was so quiet. Why was it so quiet? Theron swallowed._

_Finally he was close enough to see her better. He called her name again, and still she didn’t move. A cold prickle of fear was closing in around Theron’s heart, and his hand was trembling as he reached out to feel her neck. No pulse. Ixaleii was… dead. Tears began to slide down his face, and he took hold of her hand. She was so cold. How long had she been here? The more he looked at her, he could see that Ixaleii looked drawn and small, like she’d wasted away. He’d done all this to save her. What was he going to do now?_

_There was a sudden flash of heat on the side of Theron’s face and the earsplitting sound of a lightsaber being drawn. Theron whipped around, fear gripping him. Standing over him, her yellow eyes gleaming with a truly terrifying fury, was Lana Beniko. Her lightsaber was pointed beneath his chin, and the heat was blistering. She could kill him in less than a second, and he wouldn’t even have time to react._

_“You did this to her!” Lana hissed at him. “You killed her! She loved you. She trusted you. We all trusted you, Theron! Now look what’s happened. The galaxy will descend into chaos and it’s all your fault!”_

_“I didn’t want this,” he pleaded, weeping. “Lana, please believe me. I never wanted her dead. I love her. I did this to save her!”_

_“Liar! Traitor!” Lana shrieked. “You’re going to pay for this! You were my friend, Theron. I trusted you!”_

_“I’m sorry…” he sobbed. “Isn’t there anything I can do?”_

_“You will never be able to atone for this, Theron Shan,” she said icily. “I’ll see you in Hell.”_

_Lana drew back her saber, ready to strike, and Theron squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for death._

Theron Shan awoke in a cold sweat, immediately leaning over the side of the small bed he slept on in his shuttle to the bowl he left there to throw up into. This nightmare, and the vomiting that always followed, had become a nightly occurrence for him. He heaved until nothing more would come up, until his throat burned and his abdomen ached from the exertion. The sweat was sticky on his face and bare chest, and his head was pounding. He couldn’t live like this. Theron couldn’t even remember the last time he’d slept through the night.

When he’d regained enough control of his faculties, he stumbled to the shuttle’s refresher, dumping the vomit down the disposal and splashing water from the sink onto his face. When Theron looked up into the mirror, the man who looked back was someone he didn’t recognize. He’d shaved off most of his hair, keeping only the length on the top and a few strips along the side. Such a hairstyle made it easier to blend in to the underworld communities he often found himself taking refuge in, but Theron hated it. Mostly because he knew how much Ix would hate it, too. But it wasn’t just his hair. He looked tired. The stubble on his face was becoming more grey than brown, he was starting to notice lines on his forehead he’d never seen before, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He’d done deep cover ops in the past, but none as taxing as this. The guilt of abandoning his wife he gnawing at him from the inside, eating him alive. It was getting harder and harder to see any sort of light at the end of the tunnel.

Most of his advances with trying to take down the Order had stagnated, and though Theron didn’t blame Ixaleii at all for what she’d done, she’d unwittingly hindered his progress by killing the young Chiss Valss on Copero. Valss had been fiery and brash, and a believer in the Order’s cause, but he also had idolized Theron. Theron had been relying on using that to his advantage. It was easy to manipulate people who thought you could do no wrong, and Valss belief in Theron’s great “destiny” had certainly assured that. Theron was actually quite sad to see him gone. The kid was a victim of circumstance, and there had been something endearing about him. But when it came down to it, Valss had gone up against Ixaleii in single combat… Theron had yet to see someone do that and leave the battlefield anything less than critically wounded, force user or no. His wife was a determined woman. The only way someone was going to fight against her and leave with their life was if they surrendered. Valss had not been the surrendering type.

Still looking at himself in the mirror, Theron kneaded and pulled at his face and his forehead, watching as his features distorted in his reflection. He was tired of it. All of it. The death, the pretending, and most of all, he was simply tired of being Theron Shan. The only solace he could find from his nightmares was in the fact that he had the force sensitivity of a plasteel floor tile, which meant there was no way that they were anything other than simple dreams. But he was ready to be done with it, and more and more he had the terrible feeling that he wasn’t going to live to see the end of his operation. But the part that disturbed him most was how bit by bit, Theron found himself wishing for his death rather than dreading it. Anything would better than this.

Suddenly, a tone was ringing out from the center of his shuttle. Theron was so confused and disoriented still from his nightmare than he hardly registered the sound as his holoterminal ringing at first. Confused as to who would be trying to contact him, he nonetheless made his way over to the terminal and accepted the call. He couldn’t help but be slightly shocked when he realized who was calling.

“Mother,” he said, and sure enough Satele Shan had materialized before him, a grainy blue projection. She smiled at him, seemingly sad, but there was also warmth in her expression. Theron felt his chest stir with emotion. If someone had told his younger self that one day, his mother would be the pillar of strength and sanity in the darkest period of his life, he’d probably have directed them to a clinic on Coruscant where they could get their head scanned. But it was undeniable. Though he couldn’t contact her often, Satele had become the only person in his life who knew the truth of the terrible burden he was carrying. And the advantage of her prodigious Force affinity was that she almost always knew to contact him when he was at his lowest. She’d bolstered Theron with the strength he needed to continue with his mission on more than one occasion.

“Is this a bad time, Theron? I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Theron looked down at his attire and suddenly felt very self conscious about his bare chest and lack of pants, but he didn’t want her to go. He needed Satele right now. He knew that much.

“You didn’t, I was awake anyways,” he said.  “I… I don’t sleep well, typically.”

Even as a hologram, his mother’s expression of concern was plain to see. She nodded.

“I see. I’m sorry, Theron.” Theron mumbled back something about it being okay, even though it wasn’t, and then waited for Satele to continue. Obviously she’d called him for a reason. “I wanted to let you know that Ixaleii and Lana Beniko are with me now. Our contact might be more sporadic than usual, so I wanted to apologize.”

That bewildered Theron. His brow knitted with confusion.

“Why is Ix with you?” he asked, hoping his mother would be able to clarify for him what was going on. He didn’t think his mother and Ixaleii ever had much in the way of contact.

“She’ll be staying with me until she delivers her twins, we decided that was probably for the best,” Satele explained. “Ixaleii felt the need as Commander of the Alliance to conceal her pregnancy, and as someone who was once in her position I’m happy to help. I’ll… be raising them, Theron.”

Theron felt his heart begin to race, and he was barely able to process what he’d just heard. His hearing and brain had become filled with static the moment he’d realized what Satele was saying. The twins were alive. Theron had been so sure… Well with the crash…

“Theron? Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, Mother, I…” His voice faltered. “I didn’t realize… After the crash on Umbara. I saw the records of her being hospitalized on Odessen and…  And I… I was sure…”

He swallowed, fighting back his emotions, forcing himself breathe and emptying himself of everything. Satele merely watched him, her eyes filled with a knowing sort of sympathy. Of course she understood. Theron knew she understood. And finally he felt like he was able to understand her.

“How is she?” Theron asked when he had taken enough breaths to finally be able to speak. Satele’s expression flashed a slight bit of dismay before she replied.

“Unwell. Sad. Filled with regret and with shame. Your friend Lana is very concerned about her, and they’re concerns that I definitely share.” Theron frowned, remembering his nightmare.

 _‘They’re just dreams,’_ he thought, trying to reassure himself. _‘She isn’t going to die of a broken heart, she’s strong. Come on, laser brain, have a bit more faith in her than this. She’s your wife.’_

“……Is Corso with you as well?” he asked. It was Satele’s turn to frown.

“Ixaleii doesn’t want Corso Riggs to know about her pregnancy. She’s worried he’ll find her decision to not raise the children herself contemptible, considering his long-held desire for them to start a family.”

“That doesn’t seem like Ix,” Theron said, a little confused.

“She’s scared, Theron. Fear does strange things to a mind. Even a strong one like hers.” Satele sighed. “Luckily, we’re in a place of great calmness and healing. The time away from the responsibilities of the Alliance will do her good. It seems the constant reminders of you were slightly taxing for her. She… misses you a great deal, Theron.”

Theron felt a pang of guilt in his gut.

“I wanted her to hate me,” he said darkly.  “I thought it might make it easier for her. But I couldn’t lie to her when she asked me if our love had been real. You have to believe I didn’t want to cause her this pain.”

“I know you didn’t, Theron. You never could.”

Theron was quiet for a moment, thinking of his poor wife and the hurt she had to be feeling deep in her heart. He was glad that Lana was with her though. It was good that Ixaleii at least had one friend.

“So she’ll give birth and then hand the children over to you?” he asked. “Same as you did with me and Master Zho?”

“It’ll be slightly different than that, Theron, ” she said gently. “Ixaleii wants her children to know her, she’ll be visiting them when she can. Maybe someday they’ll return to live with her. I hope that will be the case. But they can’t right now, not with the galaxy in this sort of turmoil. She wants them to have a life away from war.”

“I wish I could thank her for that,” Theron said. It was definitely a comfort.

“……Do you want to come see them, Theron? After they’re born? They’re your children too.”

Theron felt his stomach flip. He hadn’t even considered that. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t even sure what he’d do if he saw his children live and in the flesh. Up until a few minutes ago, he hadn’t even thought they were still alive.

“I don’t know, Mother,” he answered honestly. “I wish I did, but I… I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to,” Satele said in a soothing tone. “But just know that you are welcome to.”

“Thank you,” Theron said sincerely, unsure of what else to say.

“I have to go now, Theron,” Satele said with a sad smile. “But please continue to be strong. I’m very proud of you. Jace would be proud of you too. What you’re doing isn’t easy.”

“…..Thank you, Mother.”

“May the Force be with you, my son,” she said. “I love you.”

Theron didn’t reply. He merely nodded, and let her end the call.

Unsure what else to do after what he’d just experienced, Theron returned to his bed and laid on his back in the darkness, staring up at the shuttle roof above lost in his thoughts. Ixaleii… He missed her so much. Now that he knew that she was still pregnant, that ache had increased tenfold. She was going to bring their children into the world without him there, and maybe it was just as well. Did he really deserve to be there? He thought of the heartache Ixaleii had been through and was going through because of him. He’d nearly caused the death of these children twice, it was truly beyond comprehension to him that they still lived after all the trauma Ixaleii’s body had been through thanks to his purposefully botched assassination attempts. It didn’t seem possible. But that was fate for you. He could almost hear Master Zho and what he’d have had to say about it. Theron shoved grabbed his own pillow out from below his head and brought it down forcefully over his face, groaning into it. He didn’t want to remember Ngani Zho right now. He’d had enough of painful memories for a lifetime.

It was surprising to him that he’d even allowed himself to dwell on Ixaleii for this long. He typically spent as much time as he could purposefully  _not_  thinking about her. Tonight though? He simply wasn’t strong enough. Theron allowed himself the indulgence of thinking on her for a bit longer, letting himself imagine her green eyes and her laughter and the way her skin had felt, warm and smooth beneath his hands. He remembered the smell of hair, the way her nose scrunched up when she was angry, all the stupid fights they’d had and all the times they’d made love. And he allowed himself to shed a few spare tears.

Why? Why wasn’t he able to be at her side? Why had fate decided they needed to be apart? He imagined they joy he might have felt holding his children in his arms moments after they’d been born, looking over to Ixaleii and knowing that these where their children, this was  _their_ family. If Theron had ever wished anything for any children of his, it was that they had no doubt that they were wanted, that they never had any reason to doubt his love. Now he was going to be a father and his children were more than likely never even going to know him. He was never going to have that chance. It just seemed so unfair.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook Theron and he drifted away from consciousness into a deep and heavy sleep. He tried to fight it at first, but his body was in no mood to entertain him. It took no time at all, suddenly he was just asleep. This time there were no nightmares. Perhaps he simply was too exhausted


	6. A Mother's Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHHH SO IF YOU READ THIS RIGHT AFTER IT WAS PUBLISHED I'M SORRY.  
> Last night (4/10/18) it was 3am and I was checking on this to see if it published okay, since I had to post it in a rush before I went somewhere else, and I apparently forgot a decent portion of the end of the chapter.  
> So if you were confused... that's probably why!!

Gardening. Of all the hobbies Ixaleii Stardust had seen her day maybe one day taking up, gardening had not been high on the list. But here she was, on her hands and knees digging through the loamy, fertile earth of Dantooine, pulling out weeds from her carefully planned rows of flowers and vegetables. If there was one thing about Dantooine that was for certain, it was that it was an easy place to grow things. The plants took to the soil easily and required little encouragement to grow, but even still Ixaleii enjoyed going to spend at least a little bit of time there each day.

Satele had encouraged her in it, saying it was good for her to have something external to focus her mind on. Lana, of course, had found the whole thing slightly boring. She preferred to search the planet’s vast plains, testing her strength against the kath hounds and searching Dantooine’s numerous caves and caverns for crystals which apparently held great force power. She’d even mentioned something to Ixaleii about an ancient Jedi compound from Revan’s days which Lana had apparently found incredibly fascinating. Ixaleii had decided to simply take her word for it. Physical activity was beyond her at this point, her stomach having expanded to a great size in order to accommodate two growing infants. Now, as she neared the end of her pregnancy, she even found it difficult to tend her garden, she was so immense. Ixaleii tried not to think about Corso or Theron, and how both of them would have found her condition supremely hilarious.

She could almost hear Theron. He would have teased her mercilessly, goading her into trying to hit him jokingly, all so he could catch her wrists and pull her into his arms to hold her close to his chest as he apologized, laughing. Theron had been so tall, and his chest had been so broad and warm, almost deceptively so for a man who appeared so slender. Ixaleii shook her head, chastising herself. She’d been doing so well not thinking about him. She thought instead of Corso, how he would have made some comment comparing her to the rontos on the farm he’d grown up on, but thinking of Corso didn’t give her much more comfort than thinking of Theron. She had no idea how things were going to be between them when she returned to Odessen. Their communications lately were always so strained…

Ixaleii sat back, wiping sweat from her brow, leaving a slight smudge of dirt behind. She wondered what Corso would think of this place, farm boy that he was.  She allowed herself a small smile, knowing that he would probably love it. It was the sort of place Corso probably imagined the two of them retiring to someday, a small remote farmstead, comfortably furnished and with few neighbors. Ixaleii had to admit, she’d grown somewhat fond of the slow-paced, pastoral life. Apart from her, Lana and Satele, their only other companions were a few varied droids- a protocol droid to help with household tasks, a few droids meant to maintain the farm and give an appearance of its functioning, and a medical nursemaid droid called EL-16 who would be able to help Ixaleii through labor once the time came.

Rubbing her large and very heavy stomach, Ixaleii wondered to herself how soon that day would come. As far as she knew, since the twins had “dropped” that meant she was due any day now, which she supposed should be more exciting to her than she found it. If she was being perfectly honest, she was dreading going into labor. It wasn’t just knowing the pain she’d have to go through, it was much more than that. In the past months carrying the twins, feeling them kick and shift inside her, knowing they were a part of their father as much as they were of her, she’d become incredibly fond of them, as she knew she would. As long as they remained inside of her, she wouldn’t have to give them up. The moment Ixaleii gave birth, her time with her children was finite.

But at the same time, it was undeniable that no longer having to carry the weight of two extra beings going to be a welcome relief. It wasn’t just the mobility issues at this point, in the past few weeks Ixaleii had barely been able to get any sleep. She’d already been having nightmares ever since Theron left, horrible dreams where he was trying to convince her that he’d done everything for her, but inevitably ended up being killed before her eyes by either Lana or Corso. It only took a few instances of waking up screaming and having Lana run into her room seconds later convinced her Commander was in danger for Ixaleii to start dreading sleep. The hormones of pregnancy apparently only served to make these dreams more intense. Now she was roughly the size of a Republic medical frigate, so falling asleep in the first place was a near impossible task. If it wasn’t back pain, it was cramping. If it wasn’t cramping, it was kicking. If it wasn’t kicking, it was that she had to pee. That was the stuff that nobody ever told you about being pregnant, that it was so hard on you every second of your life.

Sighing, Ixaleii took a look at her garden. Now that she’d lost her momentum to her musings, it didn’t seem like she’d be able to get much more done today. The weeds had bested her this time. She needed to lie down. Or maybe she’d take a bath first… Of course, all of this meant getting up, which was a task in itself.

“Do you need help?”

Ixaleii jumped. Satele Shan was just behind her, extending a hand for her to take. She hadn’t even heard the Jedi approach, which while she knew shouldn’t surprise her still made Ixaleii feel a little uneasy. Nonetheless, she took Satele’s extended hand gladly and let herself be pulled up to her feet.

“Thank you,” she said, and the Grand Master smiled kindly.

“I remember when I was in the final stages of my own pregnancy. Even with the Force to aid me, I still needed Master Zho’s help nearly constantly. I felt so large and ungainly… Like my body was not my own.”

Ixaleii nodded. That was a fairly accurate description. It was odd, though—her and Satele had had the chance to have many conversations during their months together, many of which had been very enlightening, however this was the first time Ixaleii remembered her mentioning her pregnancy. In fact, every time she was reminded of it, she didn’t find it any less strange thinking of Satele carrying and giving birth to Theron. She probably never would.

It wasn’t that they didn’t look like mother and son— quite the opposite in fact. Theron had once told Ixaleii that when he’d first found out that Satele was his mother, that what had struck him as the strangest part about it was that he didn’t think they looked very much alike at all. Now that she’d spent several months in the woman’s company, Ixaleii had come to the conclusion that Theron was completely wrong- he and his mother had a very strong resemblance between them, and it was a bit disconcerting at times, considering that she was doing her best to forget him. It was in their eyes mainly—not the color, of course, that couldn’t be more different—the shape of them, the way they were lidded, and how they looked at you. They had the same mouth as well, similar noses, and though Satele’s face was rounder and softer, she and her son shared the same high cheekbones. There were certain aspects of their personality that were similar to one another as well, which Ixaleii found even more surprising. She was willing to bet that Theron knew nothing of his mother’s sense of humor, but more than that, it was the fact that they both were such determined and dutiful individuals.

_In the end that’s why he left you after all, some twisted sense of duty._

Ixaleii winced. Why did she always have to remember things like that? Satele had honed in the reaction almost immediately.

“Are you okay?” she asked, and Ixaleii was about to think of how to reply when suddenly she felt a swelling of pain shooting from her back forward through her pelvis. She gripped onto Satele for support, feeling her legs turn to jelly. It took her a few seconds after experiencing it to breathe and center herself, and process what had just happened.

“I think they might be here,” she said to Satele, not able to keep the pain from her voice. No sooner had she said it than she felt a slight popping, and suddenly there was a large amount of warm fluid gushing down her legs onto the ground. Her water had just broken. Satele looked at her, expression suddenly serious.

“I think you are definitely right,” she said, and then immediately began to help Ixaleii towards the house.

The protocol droid ODX-13 was awaiting them as then crossed the threshold, his expression looking suitably anxious—though, that of course was how he always looked.

“Mistresses, is something wrong? Do you require assistance?”

“Find Lana,” Ixaleii said, not really sure what else to say. She had to double over in pain again as another contraction came. That they were so strong and so close together already was somewhat troubling, but from what had been explained to her that might also mean that the labor would be a short one. Ixaleii was fairly certain she’d much rather that than a prolonged experience.

“What should I tell Mistress Beniko when I locate her?” the droid was asking, but Ixaleii wasn’t sure she could respond. Luckily, Satele was there to answer him instead.

“Tell her that the twins are here, and she’s needed at once.” No sooner had ODX-13 tittered off in search of Lana than Satele and Ixaleii were being approached by EL-16, the round and friendly looking nursemaid droid. Ixaleii had never been happier to see a droid in her life.

“Mistress Stardust, I’m detecting that your heart-rate is elevated and your contractions have begun. You are in labor. Do you require my assistance making it to the birthing room?” she said in a kind, somewhat tinny voice. Ixaleii nodded, and allowed the droid to take her into its paddle-like arms. They were warm, and though designed for carrying infants, supported her weight with no problem.

The room was just down the hall, between Ixaleii’s bedroom and the future nursery, and had been setup solely for the purpose of delivering the twins. It was outfitted with a strange bed that almost seemed more like a chair, and various pieces of medical equipment, and though basic, EL-16 had pronounced it as being more than acceptable on more than one occasion. Once Ixaleii was situated in the bed, the droid wasted no time in beginning to scan her patient, getting various vitals and preparing for the arrival of the twins. Somewhere in the middle of all this, Satele handed Ixaleii a gown-like garment to change into to replace the soiled clothes she was wearing, and it was just when Ixaleii was thinking that the situation couldn’t get anymore overwhelming that Lana entered the room looking out of breath and harried.

“Commander, are you all right?” Lana nearly shouted, striding over to Ixaleii’s bedside. Half-naked and in the middle of pulling on the gown, Ixaleii suddenly felt somewhat exposed. Considering what was coming however, it was a feeling she knew she should probably get used to.

“I’m fine, Lana,” Ixaleii assured. “We all knew this was coming.”

“Doesn’t make it any less alarming to know it’s actually happening,” Lana said. Satele placed a comforting hand on the Sith’s shoulder.

“You’re not the only one who was surprised.”

“So what happens now?” Lana asked. Ixaleii shrugged.

“You know about as much as me,” she said, and they both looked to Satele.

“We wait,” the Jedi said placidly.

“Wait for what?”

“For things to get much, much worse.”

The Grand Master had not been lying. Worse almost seemed like an understatement. Nothing could have possibly prepared Ixaleii for the pain of childbirth, not even a lifetime of being shot at, caught in explosions and even once being impaled. When EL-16 finally informed her that it was time to push, Ixaleii almost started crying. How could she be expected to do anything at this point? She was exhausted!

But much like every other seemingly insurmountable task she’d faced in her life, Ixaleii summoned up all her determination and focused it, and faced the problem head on. Grabbing onto Lana and Satele’s hands for strength, she began to push, screaming as she did.

“That’s right, Ixaleii, you can do this,” Satele encouraged. “It will be over soon.”

Ixaleii didn’t have the strength to reply, instead she made a sound half way between a shout and a sob. She felt Lana squeeze her hand, and she looked up at her, searching her longtime friend’s face for some sort of encouragement, finding more than enough of it in the Sith’s determined expression. She was so glad Lana was here.

“Fight, Commander,” Lana said in a low voice. “You know how.”

Ixaleii let out another shriek and pushed again.

It took several more pushes, but finally the first twin entered the world, screaming as it did. Ixaleii felt tears starting to flow down her face as Ee-El took the child to clean and swaddle. The pain and pressure had subsided slightly, but Ixaleii knew it was just a temporary release. She was only half way there. Suddenly, she felt very weary and out of it.

“The child appears to be female,” Ee-El announced, handing the swaddled bundle to Satele. From where she was, Ixaleii could only see the smallest tuft of dark brown hair peeking out from the blanket. “Three point one four kilograms. Congratulations, that’s a very healthy weight.”

“Let me see her,” Ixaleii pleaded, and Satele obliged immediately, smiling warmly as she held the baby up close to Ixaleii’s face for her to see. The child was no longer crying, having been soothed by the calming warmth and vibrations of EL-16’s paddle like arms as she was swaddled, just as the droid was designed to do. Ixaleii reached out, running her fingers gently over the newborn’s dark hair, trying to smooth it down. Her baby had a very red, smashed looking face, but Ixaleii couldn’t help but find the child beautiful. Her tears returned. She’d created this life. Her and Theron.

The pain had returned now, full force, and Ixaleii cried out involuntarily. The second twin was not waiting long. It hurt so badly, Ixaleii heard herself sobbing without permission.

“It’s all right, Commander, you’ve done this once already,” Lana was assuring her, but Ixaleii was at her wits end.

“Lana… It’s too much,” she said. She was drenched in sweat, and her breath was coming in ragged and unsteady. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Emergency surgery is possible but it would not be advised at this juncture,” said EL-16. “I would recommend you to try your hardest to finish your delivery, Mistress.”

She sobbed again, feeling another contraction rip through her.

“I want Theron,” she confessed, feeling broken. “He should be here. Why did he leave me to do this alone?”

“You’re not alone, Commander,” Lana said fiercely. “Ixaleii. Listen to me. You don’t need Theron. You didn’t need him when we escaped from the Spire. You didn’t need him when you faced down Valkorion. You didn’t need him on Umbara, on Copero… Commander, you are the strongest woman I have ever met in my life, and I know that you can do this. And you’re not alone. You have me.”

Ixaleii cried out again, but her resolve had been bolstered. She squeezed Lana’s hand as hard as she could, pushing each time EL-16 instructed her to. Within ten minutes, the second twin had finally been born.

This infant was also pronounced to be healthy and a girl by Ee-El as well, smaller than her sister at only 2 and a half kilos, and the small amount of hair that she had was shocking white-blonde that almost didn’t look like hair at all.

Ixaleii felt her head lolling as exhaustion overtook her.

 _‘My sister had hair like that,’_ she thought to herself, disoriented. Jykaji. She hadn’t thought of Jykaji in years. The two of them had been nearly identical in appearance apart from Jykaji’s albinism. But Jykaji had died young, back on Corellia. Taken by the same plague that had killed her parents.

The next thing Ixaleii knew, she was waking up in her bed, alone. It was dark, both in her room and outside, and she felt more than a little bit confused.

_Where are my children?_

Ixaleii removed herself from the bed, and ignoring how crampy and sore she felt all over, immediately headed in the direction of the nursery. There was a soft light emanating from the room out into the hall, so she wasn’t surprised at all to find it already occupied.

Satele was there, seated in a large comfortable chair, one child in each arm. Her expression was serene and filled with affection as she looked down at the girls, and Ixaleii felt emotion stir in her heart. Suddenly, the fact that these children were Satele’s flesh and blood just as much as hers was truly hitting home. Satele must have sensed Ixaleii’s presence though, because without turning or indicating she had seen Ixaleii at all, she out of the blue was speaking to her.

“Here, you should come hold them,” she said. “You’re their mother after all.”

Ixaleii swallowed, feeling slightly hesitant. What if she never wanted to let go?

As if she sensed the apprehension, Satele stood, smiling warmly and offering the chair to her. Ixaleii crossed the room and sat down, and with seconds Satele was handing her the children, making sure all three of them were comfortably situated.

“You passed out almost immediately after you finished giving birth,” Satele was explaining as she found a blanket to drape over Ixaleii’s lap. Between that and the heat that the infants were giving off, Ixaleii felt almost entirely encompassed in hazy warmth. It was comforting. “After Ee-El assured us that you were simply tired and not in any medical danger, Lana and I decided it was best to let you sleep.”

“Where’s Lana right now?”Ixaleii asked. She wanted to thank her friend properly for the encouragement she’d given. Ixaleii wasn’t sure she’d have made it through giving birth without it.

“Resting, I think,” Satele said. “I should be too, but I just wanted to… to stay with them for a while.”

Ixaleii smiled, looking down at her children, taking them in completely for the first time. They both looked a great deal less smashed than they had immediately following their birth, the light haired twin especially. They were both sleeping soundly, which allowed Ixaleii to admire them easily and openly. Her heart was overflowing with more affection that she’d thought possible to even contain in one human body. They were beautiful. She loved them already. She tried not to think about how little time she now had with them.

Satele placed a hand on her shoulder, and she was looking at the girls as well, smiling. That was a comfort to Ixaleii at least, knowing that the woman she was going to leave her children with obviously cared for them so much already.

“Have you thought about what you want to name them?”Satele asked gently, and Ixaleii found she was taken slightly aback. To be honest, she hadn’t. She hadn’t really allowed herself to get that far.

Looking at the smaller twin, her white hair again brought back memories of her long dead sister on Corellia. The other girl though… undeniably, she looked a great deal like Theron, and Ixaleii could think that even having no idea what he’d looked like as a child. She thought about it for a second, but the names came to her quickly. In the end, it just seemed right.

“Jykaji,” she said, indicating the fair twin. “That was my sister’s name, when she was alive. And… And Thera. After… Jykaji and Thera. Jykaji and Thera Shan.”

Satele’s eyebrows rose slightly, but if she found Ixaleii’s choice in surname strange, she didn’t say anything out loud. Instead, she smiled again, squeezing Ixaleii’s shoulders in a comforting way.

“Those are good names. I’m sure your children will bear them well.”

They were interrupted by Thera suddenly stirring and beginning to cry. Satele’s smiled deepened.

“She’s probably hungry,” Satele said calmly.

“I don’t know how to feed her,” Ixaleii admitted, though now that she thought of it, her breasts felt achy and incredibly heavy.

“I’ll get Ee-El to come and show you how,” Satele said still smiling, but her smile faltered slightly as she continued to speak. “I never was able to feed Theron before… I’ll be right back.”

Ixaleii watched her leave, and then turned back to her babies.

“There, there,” she said to Thera, trying to rock her back and forth as best she could with only one arm. “I understand, little one, I’d be hungry too. We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we?”

The next few weeks passed far too quickly for Ixaleii’s liking, but she supposed no matter how long they stayed, anything short of the rest of her life was going to feel like too little time. When the day finally came for her and Lana to depart, Ixaleii spent the whole morning in the nursery with her children, ignoring the preparations as they happened. When Satele finally came to find her though, Ixaleii knew that the moment she’d been dreading for months had finally come.

“Lana is ready for you,” Satele said, her calm voice betraying the smallest amount of sadness. “I understand if you need to take your time.”

Ixaleii didn’t look at her, but instead at Jykaji and Thera, trying her best to memorize their faces.

“They’re so perfect,” she said, the barest hint of emotion breaking through her voice. “I wonder what they’ll look like when they’re older.”

“…..You’ll be welcome to come see them any time, Ixaleii,” Satele assured. “More than welcome. This isn’t goodbye forever.”

Ixaleii closed her eyes, and let a few tears trail down her face.

“Thank you so much, Satele,” she said quietly. “For everything you’ve done. It means… So… so much to me.”

She felt Satele’s hand on her shoulder. It was very warm.

“Of course, Ixaleii.”

Ixaleii handed the twins to her then, whispering to them both how much their mother loved them. They didn’t understand what she was saying, but it still made her feel better. And then she looked up at Satele. The Grand Master’s expression was nothing but overwhelming sympathy. If it had been anyone else, Ixaleii probably would have angry, but Satele… She knew.

“Good bye,” Ixaleii said, her voice thick with the threat of tears.

“May the Force be with you, Ixaleii Stardust,” Satele said sincerely, inclining her head. Ixaleii nodded, and then left quickly. If she stayed any longer, she didn’t think she’d be able to leave at all.

Lana was waiting for her by a multi-passenger speeder outside the farmstead, the one that would take them to the spaceport where the XS had been docked all this time. Her expression was grim. She didn’t say anything, simply gave her friend a quick embrace before they both boarded the speeder. Ixaleii was grateful for that. She didn’t think that she would be in the talking mood for quite a long time.


	7. The Days that Never End

“Isn’t there anything I could be doing though? I left everything I knew for the Order! All I’ve been doing for months is lying low!”

Theron Shan was not having a good day. Not that he often had good days anymore, but any day he had to argue with his superiors within the Order of Zildrog usually ended up being worse than usual. He was starting to wonder if maybe they suspected he was working against them—Ever since Copero, even though he’d been able to procure valuable information about Zildrog’s location on Nathema while he was there, it felt like he was being held at arm’s length. For week after week, all he’d been doing was hopping from backwater planet to backwater planet, making sure he left no trail for the Alliance to follow as he did. It was getting exhausting. Remembering how he had once thought of his bed on the Alliance base as being awful and cramped now made Theron laugh bitterly the more nights he spent alone on his bunk in the shuttle. More than anything, it was the pain of knowing that he could be doing more. That he’d left his wife against his will, because this was supposed to save her, and now he was running headlong into a durasteel wall. The rest of the Order was based out of an abandoned listening post, but for whatever reason, Theron wasn’t allowed to remain with them. It made him feel like he was slowly losing his mind. What was he even doing here if he couldn’t make any progress towards saving Ix?

“Agent Shan, I trust we don’t need to remind you of your place in all this?” Vinn Atrius said, his voice venomous and terse. Theron clenched his jaw hard enough to make the muscles twitch slightly.

“Of course not, I’m well aware,” he said through gritted teeth. “I just want to be utilized as effectively as possible. I want what’s best for the Order’s goals.”

“And the Order has decided for the time being you are most effectively utilized as a threat in the shadows. You’ll join us when the time is right, and no sooner than that.”

Theron felt a profound wave of exhaustion descend over him like a blanket.

“Fine. If that’s what you’ve decided… That’s fine.”

“Good. We’d hate to have to renegotiate the terms of your membership within the Order.”

“......I understand,” Theron said. He felt so defeated.

“When is the last time you moved locations?” the Atrius asked.

“Three standard weeks,” Theron replied

“Move again. That will be all Agent Shan.”

The call ended, and as soon as Atrius was gone, even though he was sure Gemini 16 was still watching, Theron screamed in frustration. He kicked his holoterminal with all his might, but instead of making him feel better, it only served to make his foot ache. It wasn’t that he expected them to make it easy for him to take them down, but this was starting to feel like a fool’s errand. What was he going to do if they ended up reviving Zildrog, getting to Ix and destroying the whole Alliance despite all of his work? If his wife died thinking he was a traitor, Theron wasn’t sure he could live with himself. He’d spent all this time without her because he’d been assured by his mother it would be worth it. What if it was truly futile? What was he even doing? He’d missed his own children being born because of the Order.

Satele had been calling him frequently for the last few weeks, but Theron had been ignoring her calls. He just couldn’t bear it. The only reason he knew for sure the twins had been born was that she’d also sent him a holonet message as well. He didn’t reply to it, of course. His mother was eager for him to see his children, but Theron wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to not fall apart completely. He was already one step from breaking as it stood.

Feeling angry and restless, Theron paced around his shuttle until he couldn’t stand it anymore, and then eventually stormed over to his bed and threw himself onto it like a petulant teenager who’d gotten his swoop bike privileges revoked. As he did so, he felt something hard hit his forehead. He swore loudly, rolling over onto his back.

The hard object turned out to be the pendant he always wore around his neck. Theron deflated slightly, looking at it. Ixaleii had given it to him. It was just a simple coin, threaded onto a plain nerf leather cord through a hole in its center, but it was more precious to him than anything he currently owned. He turned the coin over in his hands a few times, watching it glint in the low light his shuttle afforded. He still remembered when Ix had made this for him. She’d shot the hole into the coin herself even, which still boggled Theron’s mind, despite having watched it happen.

Theron felt a sick pit opening up in his stomach. He couldn’t do this anymore. He pushed himself off the bed, and then strode immediately to the vessel’s controls, preparing his shuttle for takeoff. The Order wanted him to move locations? Sure. He brought up a destination on the navicomputer, and only hesitated for the barest of moments before setting his course.

_I sure hope I’m doing the right thing._

…

It was a calm, beautiful night on Dantooine, and Satele Shan couldn’t help but smile slightly as she walked down the halls of the farmstead that she now called her home. It was the most content and calm she’d felt in years. She had just left her newborn granddaughters in their nursery, where they both were sleeping soundly and sweetly, as only children could. Seeing them filled her heart with joy. She could feel the swirling will of the Force changing around her with each passing day, and with it were the winds of hope. New paths were clearing. The galaxy was changing. Her grandchildren had a bright and beautiful future, and that made Satele feel a peace she thought she’d never live to feel.

However the moment she entered her chambers, the feeling in air changed. Her window was open, and the gentle gusts of wind from the outside caused her curtains to billow slightly. What she felt was undeniable—there was someone in her room, someone unexpected.

“I know that you’re there, Theron,” Satele said calmly. He’d paid her a visit like this on more than one occasion. “You don’t have to try to hide from me.”

“I assure you, that wasn’t my intention.”

She watched as her son emerged from the shadows. She was surprised he’d come to Dantooine at all. The last time they’d spoken, she wasn’t sure he ever wanted to see his children at all. Theron looked weary, and his expression betrayed a deep sadness within. She could only imagine his anguish. Satele closed the distance between them, placing a hand gently on her son’s face before quietly drawing him into her arms. Theron stiffened for a moment, still unused to maternal affection, but he relaxed slightly after a few moments.

“Sort of poetic, isn’t it?” he said, voice slightly bitter. “Her having you raise our children the way you asked Master Zho to raise me.”

“Do you want to see them, Theron?” she asked. “They’re sleeping.”

Theron laughed a bit, but it was a laugh that betrayed a heart that was breaking. Satele felt her own heart ache for her son. She was no stranger to the weight of the sacrifice he was making.

“I don’t know if I deserve to,” he said.

“They’re your daughters, Theron,” she replied. “Of course you do.”

“Daughters?” he said, emotion hitching in his throat. Satele smiled, taking her son’s hand.

“Come with me.”

She led him the nursery, walking down the same hallway she’d just left. When they arrived, the nursery was quiet and dimly lit, just the same as it’d been mere minutes before. EL-16, the nursemaid droid Satele had procured to assist her in the rearing of the two infants, gently stirred and whirred to life from her post in the corner the moment Satele crossed the threshold.

“Is there something wrong, Master Satele?” the droid asked in her warm yet still vaguely mechanical voice. Satele smiled.

“No, Ee-El, it’s fine. You can stay powered down for now.”

The droid nodded, and returned to the far corner of the room. Satele had to smile. Ee-El had truly proven to be invaluable. Even now, though the mechanical nursemaid appeared to be completely inoperative, should she detect that either of the infants were in any sort of distress—either through their heart rate, vocalizations, breathing or any other biofeedback—EL-16 would immediately be able to exit standby mode and come to their aid within seconds. It meant far fewer sleepless nights, and also a great deal of peace of mind.

From a few paces behind, Theron cautiously began to enter the room behind his mother, frowning. Satele tried to her best to be reassuring as she took his hand once again, leading him to where the twins slept, but she knew that against the onslaught of emotion her son was surely experiencing, there was very little defense-- even with the training he’d experienced as a child. As if proving her point, his reaction as he saw his children was immediate. Tears flooded his eyes, and he covered his mouth, his shoulders beginning to shake as he cried silently. Satele immediately was reminded of the first time she’d held Theron as an infant, the heart-wrenching pain she experienced intermingled with overwhelming joy. And then she’d given him over to Master Zho……

She felt a peculiar emotion deep within her gut the more she thought on it. Satele Shan was not a woman who typically dealt in regret, but if she were to dwell for too long on that particular moment, the reason and justifications she’d given at the time, she wasn’t sure if ultimately she had made the right decision. In the wake of everything that had happened with Zakuul and Valkorion, and now the Order, it almost seemed meaningless. But then she looked to her son, and the two girls he’d in turn helped give life to, and knew that such thoughts were pointless to dwell on. The past could not be changed. What was important now was doing everything she could to ensure that Theron’s children were well cared for, and more importantly, that they knew love. If any amends were ever to made for the impact she’d made on her child by not raising him herself, this was the path to that.

“This is Jykaji,” Satele said after Theron had regained some of his composure, indicating the smaller of the two girls, the one with the pale silver hair. Theron smiled.

“After Ix’s sister,” he said. Satele nodded. Ixaleii had said the same when she named the child.

“This is Thera,” she continued quietly, now indicating the dark haired twin. Theron nodded, biting his lip as he tried to hold back his emotions.

“Stardust?” he asked, inquiring if the children had their mother’s surname. Satele shook her head.

“Shan.”

Theron swallowed hard enough to make his throat jump visibly.

 “And they’re healthy, both of them?” he said, fighting to speak calmly. “Ix didn’t have any problems, the crash didn’t…?”

“Yes,” Satele confirmed. “Ixaleii gave birth with no complications.” She paused, reaching out for her son’s hand, looking him in the eye. “She’s a strong woman, Theron.”

“She’s the strongest,” he said, a hint of pride in his wrecked voice. “The only thing that gave me the strength to do this? It was knowing she’s even stronger than I ever could be.”

As she watched Theron regard his daughters with raw, undisguised love and longing in his eyes, Satele felt the force urging her to speak. There was something she knew she’d wanted to say since the moment he’d arrived, and she knew now that the moment was right.

“Theron,” she began gently. “You need to tell her. She needs to know you’re still on her side.”

She watched him visibly tense up, and felt the wave of visceral ear that descended over him so intensely that it was almost as if she’d experienced the emotion herself.

“You know why I can’t do that.”

“I know why you _couldn’t,_ ” she said. “Things have changed. The danger has passed. I could ensure your meeting would go unnoticed, I… My darling son… you don’t need to suffer like this anymore.”

Satele let the words sit with Theron. His eyes, so similar in shape to her own, stormed over with a sullenness she’d often seen in his father, and his shoulders sank slightly, as if they had the weight of the whole galaxy upon them.

“Would she even want to see me?” he asked, voice small. “Could she even still love a traitor like me? I nearly killed her. I nearly killed _them._ ”

“We both know you were doing those things to protect her,” Satele said, bracing her words with as much comfort as she could manage. “If there’s one thing I am absolutely certain of, it is that Ixaleii loves you with all her heart, and she would forgive you in an instant if she knew what you were doing for her. She believes in you, Theron.”

Theron nodded, but he still seemed shaken and pale. Satele wanted nothing more at that moment than take him into her arms, to hold her son and tell whisper to him all the soothing sweet assurances she should have been there to give him as a child and make him realize that everything was going to be okay. But she couldn’t bring herself to close the distance between them. That, it seemed, was still going to take more time.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. He turned then to leave, but Satele caught her son’s arm.

“Theron, wait,” she said. He looked confused, and his entire face seemed to be asking for an explanation. Satele swallowed away her tumultuous feelings, mentally reciting the Jedi code as she did so, and then smiled reassuringly. She had to focus on what would be best for him

“Your daughters,” she said. “Do you want to hold them?”

Theron reacted with surprise, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him, but he nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “Thank you, mother. Thank you… for everything.”

Satele felt her heart swell with affection.

“We both know it’s the least I could do,” she said with a smile, reaching into Thera’s crib as she spoke.


	8. The Depths From Which We Rise

Emptiness.

In the weeks following her departure from Dantooine, that’s all that Ixaleii felt inside of her. She was doing her best to continue ruling the Eternal Alliance, but it weren’t for Lana there to pick up her extraordinary slack, Ixaleii was sure the entire organization would be crashing down around her ears. Every time she closed her eyes, even some times when she didn’t, she saw them—her girls. Knowing that they were loved and well cared for with Satele was at least a small bit of comfort, but she ached for them in the core of her being, even more than she ached for Theron.

That was the one small comfort in all of this, that she was thinking of Theron less and less. In comparison to the loss of her children, his betrayal was nothing. But if he hadn’t betrayed her, she wouldn’t have felt compelled to leave her daughters with their grandmother. And she wouldn’t have had to conceal so much from Corso.

Ixaleii could tell that the strain was getting to her husband, and she couldn’t blame him. She knew she was treating him poorly, and she hated herself for it. The problem was, she was so broken and raw inside, she didn’t know how to stop feeling that for long enough to comfort him. She didn’t even know how to stop feeling that for long enough to be slightly decent. It shouldn’t have come as surprise when the problem eventually ended up confronting itself for her, and not in a way that Ixaleii would have chose or preferred.

She was sitting at her desk in the Alliance base when the call came. Corso, on her personal holo. She almost didn’t answer, but there was a twisting deep in her gut that told her that she had to.

“Yes?” she said as she answered, and as the miniaturized version of her husband in grainy blue hologram materialized on the device, she could already tell that something was troubling him.

“Could you meet me on the ship, Captain?” he asked. He seemed distracted somehow, and his voice strained and scratchy.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Just… please, Captain.”

“Okay,” she said, feeling uneasy. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

When she arrived at the XS, Corso was waiting for her there, sitting on the Sabacc table in the common area, arms crossed. He looked up at her and smiled, but his eyes were red, as if he’d been crying.

“Corso, what’s wrong?” she said, closing the distance between them. He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“What isn’t wrong?”

Ixaleii frowned. This wasn’t like him. But then again, she’d been so distant... For all she knew, this _was_ Corso now.

“……You called me here for a reason,” she said. Corso stared down at his feet.

“How long have you been back from your mission off planet?” he asked. “A month? Two? And how many times have we spoken since then?”

Ixaleii felt her face burn.

“I’m sorry,” she said, ashamed and quiet.

“Sweetheart, I’m not asking for an apology!” he exclaimed, obvious emotion simmering just beneath the surface. “Something’s wrong. Something happened to you. And I know it has to be something terrible, because you can’t even stand to look at me. I’m losing you. And I…  I don’t think I can take it.” Ixaleii felt a sharp pain twist in her chest.

“You’re not losing me, Corso,” she said quietly. Corso was starting at her now. “I’m losing myself.”

“Why?” he asked plainly. “Is it Theron? Captain, he’s been gone for over half a year at this point.”

“It’s not Theron, Corso,” she said, somewhat prickly. This wasn’t a line of questioning that was going to end well.

“Darling, I know you,” her husband, his voice mournful. Tenderly, he lifted her chin with a finger and a thumb, looking her in the eyes. She felt the tears already welling without her permission. Ixaleii was sick of crying, to be perfectly frank, and she hated the way that when Corso looked at her tear-filled eyes, she could see him become more and more worried. “Is it…… Do you not love me anymore?”

“Corso, no, don’t even say that!” she said, and the tears spilled over. He was crying too, now, which she hadn’t seen him do since the day they’d reunited.

“Then what are you hiding from me?” he pleaded.

“I… I can’t… tell you,” she said, struggling to speak between sobs. “You’d hate me, Corso. You’d never forgive me.”

“Please…. Ixaleii, please, just tell me. I could never hate you, please.”

Hearing Corso call her by her name is what broke her, because it was something Corso simply did not do. Ever since he’d met her all those years ago, she’d been nothing other than Captain to him, even when they’d said their wedding vows. It was only when they made love that he ever called her by her name. For him to say it now meant that he was completely broken, and that’s why she knew it would be impossible to keep up this charade any longer. It took her several minutes due to all the times she had to stop and sob uncontrollably, but eventually the whole truth came out. And through the whole sordid mess, as each and every awful detail came to light, he simply stared at her, face twitching as he tried to hold back his emotions. When all was said and done and terrible truth was finally out in the open, Corso seemed stunned. It took him several minutes before he could reply.

“You… You were carrying twins that whole time?” he said, completely dumbfounded. “Theron Shan’s… twins? Children? Babies that you had to give birth to?”

She nodded, not wanting to speak any more. Her head hurt and she was tired. All Ixaleii wanted to do at this point was sleep for the next several years.

“……Ixaleii, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve failed you so badly as a husband.”

Hearing Corso say that not only shocked Ixaleii, but made her heart rend.

“What are you talking about?” she said, speaking as fast as she could. “You have nothing to be sorry for, I’m the one who failed, who lied—”

He shook his head and grabbed hold of her hands, clenching them tightly in his own.

“You only lied because you were afraid of me,” her husband said in raw earnest. “Afraid of me being… angry with you for doing what was best for your children, for doing something that took strength I can’t even begin to fathom. Sweetheart…”

Corso smiled at her tearfully, brushing some hair that had stuck to her tear-stained cheeks back behind her ears.

“There has to have been something I said,” he continued. “Or did. Something that made you so terrified of me that you thought I wouldn’t respect your choices. You spent six months alone with Lana on a planet you didn’t know, with a Jedi Master you’d barely met twice rather than have me there by your side to help. I’m sorry that I ever did anything to make you feel like I couldn’t be there and be trusted. I _love_ you, Ixaleii Stardust. You’re my wife. My Captain. I’ll do everything I can to do better for you in the future. I don’t want the woman I love to be afraid of me.”

Ixaleii broke down completely, and threw herself into Corso’s embrace, and the warmth of his wide chest and strong arms was soothing to her in a way that nothing else could have been at that moment. He held onto her tightly, letting her cry into his shirt, stroking her hair and the small of her back as she just shook. Before she knew it, she was being lifted, and he was carrying her towards their bedroom. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept there, but the bed felt warm and comforting in the way that only something so familiar could, and Corso was so gentle as he gathered tucked her blankets all around her it made Ixaleii already raw and overflowing heart flood with even more emotion.

Her husband gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, and turned to leave. Though somewhat weakened by all the emotional turmoil she’d just experienced, Ixaleii managed to catch Corso by the wrist before he did so.

“No,” she said. “Please, stay with me.”

“Okay,” he said, voice thick with emotion, and within a few moments, Corso had joined her in the bed, his arms wrapped around her tightly.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you too,” she replied, drifting off to sleep. It was the first time in months she was able to sleep through the night undisturbed.

The next morning, Ixaleii awoke to the sound of her personal holocommunicator ringing. Not wanting to wake Corso, who was still sleeping soundly, she wiggled out of his embrace gently and tip-toed out of the room to take the call.

“Hello?” she said groggily as she accepted the call. It was Hylo Visz, the head of her Underground Logistics department, and probably the only Smuggler in the history of the Republic to rival her notoriety.

“Sorry to wake you, Commander,” the Mirailan said, her voice not at all its normal cheerful tone. “I need you to come see me as soon as you can. There’s something you need to see. It’s… I think I might have found Theron.”

“I’ll be right there,” she said, all traces of sleepiness immediately fleeing her body.

The moment she hung up, she looked over to see Corso standing at the threshold of their bedroom, frowning.

“You heard that?” she asked, and he nodded.

“You better go quickly.”

“Would… Do you want to come with me?” she asked, and Corso smiled, coming over and kissing her on the forehead.

“You go, I’ll be fine. I have to get my day started anyways,” he said. “I love you, Captain. Be strong.”

“I love you too,” she said to him, and gave him a short, tender kiss. He was smiling gently as she pulled away, and it was that smile that gave her the strength to go face Hylo Visz and whatever news she had about Theron.

As she entered the Underground Logistics headquarters, Hylo was obviously perturbed, her green skin was pale and her brow furrowed.

“Commander,” she said as a way of acknowledgement as Ixaleii approached her.

“Hylo,” the Commander replied. “You told me you had news. About Theron.”

“He sent me a message,” Hylo said, sounding shaken. “I don’t know what to make of it.”

Ixaleii’s brow furrowed, and she took the datapad that Hylo had extended to her. The message that was displayed was obviously from Theron, Ixaleii recognized the frequency as being from the personal communicator that was literally implanted into his skull. She frowned.

“Was… do you think he intended to send this to you or was it a mistake?” Ixaleii asked, and Hylo shrugged in response. Ixaleii read the letter over again, bewildered. It was as plain as day. “The rendezvous will take place in one standard day,” and then an exact time, as well as coordinates for an orbital station Ixaleii hadn’t even known existed, around what appeared to be Yavin 4.

“Well, are you going to go?” Hylo asked, and Ixaleii felt a pang of fear that she couldn’t really explain.

“I should, shouldn’t I?” Ixaleii replied. “I… I need to. Alone.”

“I’ll tell the others you’re following a lead, I won’t elaborate more than I have to. Don’t want them to worry. Or get any sort of false hope for that matter,” Hylo said. “Good luck, Commander. May the Force be with you…… And bring him home, okay? I owe that idiot a good lecture.”

It only took Ixaleii a few uneasy hours to reach the Yavin moon which the station orbited, but rather than docking here, Ixaleii allowed her XS freighter to enter the orbit as well, taking her time to plan her next move. She still had several hours before the supposed rendezvous was supposed to take place, and she didn’t want to put herself in any sort of unnecessary danger.

However, once she’d sat down to think, Ixaleii found herself dozing, fatigued by the journey. She frowned, but ultimately decided a nap was well worth it. It would be better to face Theron well rested.

What Ixaleii didn’t expect was to be jolted awake violently after only half an hour by the sound of an alert klaxon, and her ship shaking as if it might tear apart. Ixaleii scrambled to untangle herself from her blankets and ran to the ships bridge, trying to ascertain what exactly was going on. There was another ship, one she didn’t recognize, pulling up beside her in orbit, attaching an umbilical to her airlock. She was being boarded.

“Oh no you don’t,” Ixaleii said out loud as her fingers flew over various keys and switches on the bridge’s controls. It was no use however. None of the fail-safes or hacks specifically designed to prevent boarders (many of which Ixaleii had modded into the ship herself) seemed to be working. The commands had been shut down with such alacrity that it was almost as if she’d done nothing at all. Whoever was at the helm of the other ship had to be an expert slicer.  Ixaleii felt her blood run cold.

_It can’t be._

The clanging of another loud alert rang throughout her ship, indicating that the docking had been completed, and Ixaleii scowled. She ran out into the common area, retrieving her belt and her blasters, and prepared herself mentally for a fight. She ran headlong for the airlock, and though she had no idea what to expect to see waiting for her on the other side of the door, she knew that she had no other choice but to face it. She spared a few seconds to curse under her breath for not bringing anyone else along. What would Lana and Corso think if they simply never heard from her again? Trying her best to ignore the overwhelming queasiness that was bubbling in her gut, Ixaleii slammed on the controls which opened her airlock door.

_All right, you bastard, let’s see you. You chose the wrong Captain to mess with this time._

The figure standing before his own airlock at the end of the hall was someone Ixaleii did not recognize, but she supposed that was to be expected of a man wearing a mask. He advanced towards without so much as a word, and Ixaleii felt fear grip her. She got off a few shots, but the stranger had to be wearing some sort of energy shield, because not a single bolt managed to hit its mark. Instead all they managed to do was leave scorch marks on the walls. The figure was walking faster now, but just before he reached her, he paused. Confused, Ixaleii lowered her weapons for a moment, and watched in horror as the mysterious man slowly removed his mask, revealing a face that was simultaneously familiar and that of a complete stranger.

It was Theron Shan.

Ixaleii screamed a wordless cry of fury, her faculties too overwhelmed to think to do anything else, and when she tried to raise her blasters to fire at him again, Theron deftly and quickly disarmed her. As the guns clattered to the floor, Ixaleii felt her former lover grab hold of her wrists, forcefully. His grip was painful, and it immobilized her completely. She began to struggle against him, and finally he spoke, shouting his words to be heard over the turmoil and confusion.

“Stop, stop, it’s me, Ix it’s me!!”

Ixaleii did not stop. All she could see was the burning wreckage of the train on Umbara, Theron in his shuttle, walking up the gangplank, staring at her coldly, and then her children as she’d handed them over to Satele Shan for the last time. Hot tears started to flow down her face, and incoherent, inhuman shrieks tore out of her throat. She could hardly even think a single rational thought. She tried to hit him with all the force she could muster, but Theron’s grip on her wrists was too iron-clad. Instead, she kicked him as hard as she could, repeatedly, but Theron barely even reacted. Another unearthly howl tore from her lips, her throat raw from the exertion. Eventually she went limp, sobbing, and she surrendered herself to whatever he had planned for her. Probably death. She didn’t care. All Ixaleii knew at that point is that she was tired of fighting.

Suddenly Theron let go of her wrists, and Ixaleii was so stunned, she nearly fell to the ground. She simply stood there, catatonic with shock as her former lover gently took her into his arms. He held her tight burying his face in her hair, and finally spoke in a wrecked, hoarsely emotional voice.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he practically whispered.

The Commander was dumbfounded. She didn’t react at all as he freed her from his embrace, just stared, her expression completely blank. She was too tired. How many times had she prayed for this moment and now she didn’t even know how to process it?

“……Theron what is going on?” she asked eventually, still reeling. “I thought… You… You hate me. You want me dead.”

“Never,” he said fiercely. “Ix, I could _never_ … I… Oh, hell, there’s so much to explain I don’t even know where… We don’t have much time, they can’t know I was here.”

“Who are _they_?”

“They call themselves the Order of Zildrog, they want… _They’re_ the ones who want you dead, Ix, the want the whole Alliance gone, they want it all to come crashing down. I can’t let that happen.”

“Theron, I don’t understand,” Ixaleii said. Her head hurt. This was all happening too fast. “I… Why didn’t you tell me? What’s going on?”

“I’m going to bring them down, Ix. From the inside. I told you, I would do _anything_ to protect you. To join them, I had to prove myself, had to make them think I wanted to take you down. It had to be convincing. Don’t you see? If I told Lana, Corso, if I told you, if I told _anyone_ , they would have found out. Everyone had to believe I was truly a traitor. Even you. Especially you.”

“Why are you telling me now?” she demanded. “Won’t _they_ realize… or… or…?”

She watched Theron’s brow knit into an expression of immeasurable pain, and he bit his lip with such force Ixaleii was surprised it didn’t draw blood, breathing loudly through his nose as if he was trying not to cry.

“I couldn’t live with myself anymore knowing what I was putting you through. You… and our children.”

Ixaleii couldn’t stand it any longer. She pulled him in by his shirt collar, pausing for a moment to look him over, their faces close, lips hovering mere centimeters apart. There were creases in his forehead, lines around his eyes she didn’t recognize. Everything about him, from the sunken, gauntness of his cheeks and eye sockets, to his slightly hunched stance, was practically alien. He’d even changed his hair. The man before her wasn’t Theron like she remembered, this was someone utterly defeated, someone who lived desperately and in constant pain. But his eyes… In his eyes Ixaleii could see the same tenderness, the same love she’d always seen in them, from the very first moment she’d noticed him looking her way, all those years ago in a stark briefing room on Carrick Station. He’d told her later he’d been in love with her from the very first moment he’d seen her…… And as far as she knew, Theron had meant it, which was part of the reason his betrayal had come as such a staggering blow. All at once, the overwhelming scale of what was happening crashed into Ixaleii like the wave of a solar flare. He didn’t hate her. He hadn’t betrayed her. The lies that she’d been imagining, trying to fathom—all of it didn’t have to torment her any longer. Theron was _on her side_.  

When their lips finally met, the instant emotional release that flooded through Ixaleii was overwhelming. The tears returned full force, streaming down her face even as she kissed Theron as hard as she’d ever done. He returned the kiss with just as much, if not more, force and passion, and she heard him choke back sobs as he brought his hands to her face, holding her as if he was sure she would disappear any moment.

Eventually Theron pulled away, still holding her face, resting his forehead against hers as silent tears fell down onto his cheeks.

“What the hell have you done to your hair?” she blurted, unable to repress the thought. He laughed through his tears, his hands falling away.

“I knew you’d hate it,” he said, absentmindedly running a hand over the shaved strips along the side of his head. “I was trying to make myself a bit less recognizable.”

“And you didn’t think to cover these?” she said, gently touching the implants over his left eyebrow, laughing slightly to herself. A strange expression came over Theron’s face then, and he reached up towards his face, covering Ixaleii’s hand with his own.

“Why am I so weak when it comes to you?” he said, sounding so lost it made Ixaleii’s heart rend. “At first it was almost easier, thinking I’d made you hate me. But you put out that message on the holonet, then my mother… I’ve seen our daughters, Ix, they’re so beautiful and… and… I have to be so… so dead when I’m with the Order. If I think about you for even a moment, it puts everything I’ve worked for at risk. I love you so much, Ixaleii, please you have to know I never would have done this if it wasn’t the only thing I could do to save you. I can’t lose you.”

“But why do you have to do it alone?” Ixaleii asked, almost pleading. “The Alliance has the intelligence resources to support you in this, I know we do. Hell, even if I just told Lana that—”

“You can’t let any of the others know,” he said, quiet and grim. “They have to think I’m still a traitor. Ix, if the others become involved it’s going to put them in terrible danger. I can’t explain too much, but this is the only way. I shouldn’t have even told you, I just… Knowing that you still love me is the only way I’m going to see the other side of this.”

“Theron, I will always love you,” Ixaleii said, fervent. “Even when I thought you wanted me dead, that didn’t change. There is nothing you could do to make me stop loving you.”

Theron made some sort of choked, laughing noise and wiped at his eyes.

“You have no idea how good that makes me feel to hear.”

“I can guess,” Ixaleii said, quiet. “When you left us, I kept playing through every conversation we’d had recently, trying to figure out what had done it. What had made you hate me enough to want me dead, to not trust me enough to talk to me about wanting to end the Alliance. I thought you hated me for killing your father, for letting myself get pregnant, for not being able to bring peace to the galaxy like I wanted—Like _we_ wanted. I hated myself for those things too. After a while, I couldn’t blame you for wanting me dead.”

“I’ve never blamed you for any of that,” Theron said. “You didn’t kill my father, he brought that on himself. And the rest… Ix. You have no idea how much it killed me inside to try to convince you to end your pregnancy. I knew how much danger you were in. I didn’t want you to lose them and have it not be your choice. After Umbara, I thought… there was no way…”

He stopped then, too emotional to continue. Ixaleii felt her chest tightening. She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he’d been going through on her account. Eventually Theron looked up again, eyes shining with tears even as he was smiling sadly to himself.

“I’m going to stop them, Ix. For you. When the time is right to bring them down, I’ll send word. I promise.”

“I love you so much, Theron,” she said, trying to convey in those words just how much she understood and appreciated just what he was doing. He smiled widened just the smallest bit, and he leaned in to give her a quick, gentle kiss.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

He looked her over for a few moments before answering, almost as if he were trying to memorize her face.

“For giving me the strength I need to do this.”

Theron started to walk away, and Ixaleii felt panic seize her chest.

“No,” she couldn’t help but say, trying to reach out to him. Her hand grazed the side of his cheek, then ran down the length of his arm as he continued to walk down the airlock, facing her the whole time. Theron’s eyes locked with hers, and he didn’t look away until he was standing on the threshold of the door to his ship.

“I love you,” he called out to her at the last moment before the doors closed, blocking him from view. Ixaleii dissolved into tears, dropping down her knees.

“You do love me,” she whispered to herself as she knelt there sobbing. “I know.”

Eventually Ixaleii pulled herself to her feet, and staggered out of the airlock. Stumbling almost as if she were drunk, she ran to her bridge, and looking out the plated glass into the cockpit of the other ship, she saw Theron at the helm there. He looked up, and their eyes locked. Slowly, Ixaleii placed her palm up against the glass, not taking her eyes off of the man she loved and thought she had lost forever, not even for a second. There was a thunderous noise as the umbilical from Theron’s ship began to disengage from her airlock, and he too placed a single hand against the glass of his viewport, mirroring her movement. He nodded gravely, and Ixaleii did the same, and then watched as he brought his ship about. Theron took his time as punched in the coordinates, but then there was a blinding flash, and he was gone, off into hyperspace and some unknown destination.

But it didn’t matter. Tears were sliding down Ixaleii’s face as she started charting her own course back to Odessen, but her heart was light. For the first time in many months, Ixaleii Stardust felt as if the galaxy was a place worth living in.

Theron Shan was on her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD THE FIC THAT TOOK ME TWO YEARS TO WRITE.  
> IT'S DONE.  
> AND THIS LAST SCENE IS THE ONE I WROTE FIRST OH MY GOD.
> 
> Well friends, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it. Please leave some feedback if you can!  
> ......what am I gonna do with my life now? lol


End file.
